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A 

RHETORICAL GRAMMAR: 

IN WHICH THE 

COMMON IMPROPRIETIES 
IN- 
READING AND SPEAKING 

ARE DETECTED, 

AND THE 

TRUE SOURCES OF ELEGANT PRONUNCIATION 

ARE POINTED OUT. 

WITH A 

COMPLETE ANALYSIS OF THE VOICE. 

SHOWING ITS 

SPECIFIC MODIFICATIONS, 

AND HOW 
THEY MAY BE APPLIED TO DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SENTENCES 

AND THE SEVERAL 

FIGURES OF RHETORIC. 

TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 

OUTLINES OF COMPOSITION, 

OR, 

PLAIN RULES FOR WRITING ORATIONS, 
AND SPEAKING THEM IN PUBLIC. 



THE SEVENTH EDITION. 

BY JOHN WALKER, 



ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION, &C. 



Est autem in dicendo quiduin cant us. — cicero OR at. 
LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR T. CADELL ; LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND 
BROWN; BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; BAYNES AND SON J OGLE 
AND CO.; G, AND W. B. WHITTAKERJ AND SIMPKIN AND MAR- 
SHALL. 



1823, 



r % 




C. B&ldwtu, Printer, 
W«w Br idr©-«t rr et , London* 



TO 



DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 



SIR, 

If the conferring of benefits be what com- 
monly constitutes a Patron, — to Students in 
Elocution you are the greatest patron in the 
kingdom. You not only first awakened the 
public to an attention to their language, but, by 
an Herculean labour, afforded them a guide, 
which has conducted them to a thousand im- 
provements. This was sufficient to attract the 
admiration and acknowledgments of your coun- 
try, if you had not shown, by your moral and 
critical writings, that, though you were the only 
person proper to undertake so laborious a task, 
you were almost the only one who ought to have 
been exempted from it. But though I am proud 
of an opportunity of confessing my obligations 
to your public labours, I am much more ambi- 
tious of telling the world, that I have been long 



IV 

honoured with the friendship and advice of him 
whose name will be mentioned among the 
Lockes, the Newtons, and the Fenelons, as the 
friend of Revelation ; and whose life is an indis- 
putable proof of the sincerity of his attachment 
to it. 

I am, 
sir, 
With the greatest Respect, 
Your obliged 

Humble Servant, 

J. WALKER. 



PREFACE 



TO THE THIRD EDITION. 



The present edition is almost a new work. 
The praxis of sentences, so arranged as to lead 
the pupil from the easiest to the most difficult, 
seemed better calculated for the lower class of 
pupils in reading than for students in rhetoric ; 
and therefore this has been omitted. The want of 
Rules for Composition, so essential in rhetoric, 
has been supplied from the best source — Blair's 
Lectures : and what was deficient even in these 
has been furnished from Professor Ward's Lec- 
tures on Oratory : — so that with the original 
matter on the elegant pronunciation of words, on 
accent^ emphasis, and inflexion of voice, and the 
proper pronunciation of the Figures of Rhetoric, 
it is presumed the present work is the most per- 
fect of its kind in the language. 

A powerful motive, indeed, for enlarging the 
Rhetorical Grammar to its present size, was, to 



VI 



give a complete idea of the two circumflexes of 
the speaking voice. Ihe two simple inflexions, 
the rising and falling, had been several times de- 
lineated on copper-plates, in Elements of Elocu- 
tion ; but the two complex inflexions, called cir- 
cumflexes, though frequently described, had not 
been marked out to the eye ; and these appeared 
so inseparable from the human voice, so new, and 
of such real utility in teaching to read and speak, 
that I could scarcely think I had discharged my 
duty to my country, till I had given these modi- 
fications of the speaking voice as clear an ex- 
planation as I was able. 

The sanguine expectations I had once enter- 
tained, that this analysis of the human voice 
would be received by the learned with avidity 
and applause, are now over. I have almost worn 
out a long life in laborious exertions ; and, though 
I have succeeded beyond expectation in forming 
readers and speakers in the most respectable 
circles in the three kingdoms, yet I have had the 
mortification to find few of my pupils listen to 
any thing but my pronunciation. When I have 
explained to them the five modifications of the 
voice, they have assented and admired ; but so 
difficult did it appear to adopt them, especially 
to those advanced in life, that I was generally 



VII 

obliged to follow the old method, (if it may be 
called so) " read as I read, without any reason 
for it." — But without pretending to the gift of 
prophecy, I think I can foresee, that sooner or 
later these distinctions of the voice must become 
the vehicle of instruction in reading and speak- 
ing. It is not improbable that the active genius 
of the French, who are so remarkably attentive 
to their language, may first adopt this vehicle ; 
and if this should happen, I hope it will be re- 
membered, that an unassisted and unpatronised 
Englishman was the first who discovered and 
explained it. 



CONTENTS 



Page 

Introduction 1 

Observations on some of the principal Faults in the Pro- 
nunciation of the generality of Pupils, with the Methods 

of correcting them 6 

Too slightly sounding the Unaccented Vowels ib. 

Wavering and uncertain Pronunciation of the Vowels 

under the Secondary Accent 8 

The Liquid Sound of K, C, or G, hard, before the Vowels 

A and I 10 

The Liquid Sound of T, D, S, and soft C, after the Ac- 
cent and before the Semiconsonant Diphthongs 12 

Suppressing the sound of the Final Consonants 14* 

The rough and smooth Sound of R : . . . . 17 

Hissing too much the Terminations tion and sion 18 

Pronouncing S indistinctly after ST 19 

Pronouncing W for V, and inversely ib. 

Not sounding H after W 20 

Not sounding H where it ought to be sounded, and in- 
versely : 21 

Suppressing E where it should be pronounced, 'and pro- 
nouncing where it should be suppressed 22 

Observations on the Pronunciation of certain Words fre- 
quently mistaken in reading 24> 

The true Sound of the Auxiliary Verbs : also, when ed 

makes a distinct Syllable, and when not ib. 

When you is to be pronounced like ye, and my like me. . 25 
When of, from, and by, are to have a long, and when a 

short sound 28 

How to pronounce the Possessive thy 30 

How to pronounce the Adjective Possessive mine 33 

The indistinct Sound of the Word not 35 

b 



x CONTENTS. 

Page 

How to pronounce the Participial Termination ing. ... 36 

How to pronounce the Word to when succeeded by you 38 

Reading defined — Its Relation to Speaking 39 

General Idea of the common Doctrine of Punctuation. . 4?1 

Rhetorical Punctuation 48 

Practical System of Rhetorical Punctuation 53 

Of Visible Punctuation ib. 

Rules for Pausing 57 

The principal Pause in the Compact Sentence ib. 

The principal Pause in the Loose Sentence 59 

The subordinate Pause in the Compact Sentence 60 

Audible Punctuation 71 

Explanation of the Inflexions of the Voice 73 

Explanation of Plate the First 76 

The different States of the Voice '. 78 

Practical System of the Inflexions of Voice 80 

Compact Sentence — Direct Period with Two Conjunc- 
tions ib. 

Direct Period with One Conjunction 83 

Inverted Period 86 

Loose Sentence 87 

Orthoepial Figures, or Figures of Pronunciation 90 

The Interrogation 91 

The indefinite Question 4 92 

The definite Question 94? 

The Exclamation \ 96 

The Parenthesis 99 

The Commencement. 101 

The Contrast 104? 

The Series : 306 

The Commencing Series 10S 

The Concluding Series €10 

The Question and Answer 112 

The Echo 114? 

The Antecedent 118 

The Variation 121 

The Period and the Method of forming a Cadence. ... 124? 

On Accented Force 128 

On Emphatic Force 130 

What it is that constitutes Emphasis 132 



CONTENTS. xi 

Page 

On the different Forces of Emphatic Words 136 

On the Propriety of marking Emphatic Words 139 

A Method of marking the different Forces of Words . . 141 
Utility of understanding the different Inflexions and dif- 
ferent Forces of Words 146 

Rules for reading Verse 151 

Of the Accent and Emphasis of Verse 154 

When the Poetical Accent is to be preserved, and when 

not * 155 

How e and o, when apostrophised, are to be pronounced 160 

Of the pause or Caesura of Verse 162 

Of the Cadence of Verse 163 

On Blank Verse 170 

Explanation of the Figures of Rhetoric — with Directions 

for the proper Method of pronouncing them 172 

Metaphor 174 

Allegory 1 7.3 

Metonomy 176 

Synecdoche ib. 

Hyperbole 177 

Catechresis ib. 

Irony 178 

Ecphonesis 180 

Erotesis 182 

Aparithmesis; or Enumeration, Gradation, and Climax, 185 

Epanaphora 189 

Prolepsis 193 

Synchoresis 195 

Epanorthosis 197 

Anastrophe 1 99 

Apostrophe 201 

Asyndeton and Polysyndeton 202 

Enantiosis 206 

Paralepsis 209 

Anacoenosis 211 

Hypotyposis 213 

Vision 224 

Simile 228 

Prosopopoeia 231 

Modulation and Management of the Voice 237 



xii CONTENTS. 

Page 

Instructions for acquiring Low Tones of Voice . . 239 

Instructions for acquiring High Tones of Voice 240 

Instructions for the Management of the Voice 24-1 

Rules for Gesture 244 

On Composition 249 

On Style, Perspicuity, and Precision 255 

On the Structure of Sentences 259 

On the Harmony of Sentences 271 

The general Characters of Style — Diffuse, concise, &c. 278 

Directions for forming a proper Style 284 

Of the Distribution of Oratory 295 

Of Invention 296 

Of external Topics 305 

Of the State of a Controversy 316 

Of Arguments suited to Demonstrative Discourses .... 324 

Of Arguments suited to Deliberative Discourses 334 

Of Arguments Suited to Judicial Discourses 342 

Of the Character and Address of an Orator 352 

Of the Passions 391 



INTRODUCTION. 



Rhetoric, or the Art of Persuasion, is of 
such importance in the great concerns of so- 
ciety, that it is not surprising so much has been 
written on this subject in every age and nation, 
where the Arts and Sciences have been culti- 
vated. The power of pleasing and persuading 
those whom we address has excited every faculty 
10 the mind of man, to detect, if possible, the 
secret springs of that pleasure and persuasion, 
which give us such dominion over the feelings 
of our fellow creatures. 

The ancients have left us everlasting monu- 
ments of their excellence in this art, and, in their 
endeavours to investigate the principles of it, 
have descended to such niceties as we think 
childish and insignificant: but that branch of 
Oratory which Demosthenes called the first, the 
second, and the third part of it, and which was 
so assiduously cultivated by the ancients — that, 
alas ! perished with them, and left their compo- 
sitions like a lifeless corpse, beautiful in death, 
but deprived of all that vigour and energy, 
which agitated and astonished their wondering 
auditors. We hear at this distance but a faint 
echo of that thunder in Demosthenes, which 
shook the throne of Macedon to its foundations; 
and are sometimes at a loss for that conviction 
in the arguments of Cicero, which balanced, in 
the midst of convulsions, the tottering republic 
of Rome. 









ii INTRODUCTION. 

This part of Rhetoric, which consists in pro- 
nunciation and action, and which may be called 
the Soul of Oratory, is, from its very nature, less 
capable of being communicated by writing, 
and has therefore been less improved by the 
joint labours of succeeding ages; and thus, 
while invention, disposition, and elocution, in 
the ancient sense of the word, have been cul- 
tivated by the moderns to the highest degree 
of perfection, Pronunciation or Delivery has 
scarcely attained mediocrity. The importance, 
however, of this part of Oratory has in- 
duced several ingenious men to give the out- 
lines of it upon paper ; and to describe, as well 
as they were able, those variations of voice, 
which the various structure and import of a 
sentence seemed to require. Numberless have 
been the attempts to mark to the eye some of 
those modifications of tone and inflexion, which 
form the essence of a good enunciation. Pauses, 
dashes, and notes of interrogation, exclamation, 
and parenthesis, are but so many attempts to fa- 
cilitate the delivery of written language, and, 
if properly adapted, have undoubtedly a consi- 
derable use. Nay, marking the emphatic words 
in a different character is sometimes found 
highly advantageous ; but the most simple, the 
most marking, and the most useful method of 
all, seems hitherto to have been entirely neg- 
lected, — and that is distinguishing the speaking 
voice into its two essential turns or inflexions, 
the rising and the falling. This neglect is the 
more remarkable, as the want of some such dis- 
tinction of the voice has unquestionably been 
the occasion, that so little progress has been 
made in conveying the art of speaking upon pa- 
per, and teaching it by rules. 

Almost all our writers on this subject, after 



INTRODUCTION. iii 

giving rules for pausing, tell us there are cer- 
tain tones and inflexions of voice, which are of 
much more importance to the meaning of the 
words we read than the points we make use of, 
however judiciously adapted. But here they 
generally leave us. The Interrogation and Ex- 
clamation points, indeed, are said not only to 
require suitable pauses, but likewise an eleva- 
tion of voice, and the Parenthesis a moderate 
depression of it. Mr. Perry, in his English 
Grammar, has gone so far as to tell us, that the 
Interrogation, when it does not begin with the 
relatives icho, which, or xcJiat, or the adverbs 
hoic, where, when, &c, requires an elevation of 
voice ; and an old writer, Charles Butler, of 
Magdalen College, Oxford, has in his English 
Grammar gone one step farther, and told us, 
that this species of Interrogation not only re- 
quires an elevation but a different turn of voice. 
Here was a hint which one would have imagined 
would have set some grammarian at work to in- 
quire what this turn of voice was : but more than 
a hundred years passed without any such inquiry; 
till the author of the present work, about twenty 
years ago, when he was preparing to give lessons 
at Oxford, and drying every method to gain 
some permanent modifications of the speaking 
voice, in order to form some certain rules for 
reading or adapting the voice to the structure 
and meaning of a sentence, observed, that every 
word had necessarily cither an upward or a 
downward turn, or continued in a monotone. 
This distinction he thought of such importance 
as to make him hope it might attract the notice 
of the public; and he accordingly introduced 
it in a work called Elements of Elocution, but 
found no notice taken of it, till within these 
last three or four years, and then very imper- 

B % 



iv INTRODUCTION. 

fectly. About ten years ago he observed, that 
these two turns, the upward and the downward, 
were sometimes united on the same syllable, 
or, as it may be called, in the same explosion of 
voice, and formed a compound turn, either be- 
ginning with the upward and ending with the 
downward, or vice versa, and these compound 
turns he called circumflexes. Here he began to 
flatter himself that he had made a discovery, 
and found means to bind that varying Proteus, 
the speaking voice ; as he conceived that there 
was no tortuous or zigzag turn in speaking, 
which might not be reduced to one of these 
modifications, and consequently, that he had 
some permanent data on which to found a sys- 
tem of Rhetorical pronunciation. 

It is to the novelty and utility of this distinc- 
tion that the author claims the attention of the 
public. He has already written largely on it, 
but has still something to add. By the blessing 
of Providence, he has lived long enough to see 
the truth of his principles universally assented 
to, and, in some instances, adopted in practice. 
The utility of them he is fully persuaded of by 
a thousand experiments ; but of this the public 
at large are undoubtedly the best judges. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



That part of Rhetoric which relates to com- 
position has been so elaborately treated both 
by the ancients and modems, that I shall in 
some measure invert the common order, and 
at first chiefly confine myself to that branch 
of it which relates to pronunciation and deli- 
very. Preparatory to which it will be neces- 
sary to settle the pronunciation of several let- 
ters, syllables, and words, which are not only 
often mispronounced by the younger class of 
pupils, but which are frequently little under- 
stood by those who are more advanced in the 
art. Without quoting- Quintilian, we may easily 
conclude, that if these first principles of speak- 
ing are not distinctly and accurately learned, 
whatever we acquire afterward must be faulty 
and erroneous. I shall therefore begin with 
settling the true pronunciation of those letters, 
syllables, and words, which are the most liable 
to be mistaken by the generality of readers and 
speakers. 



6 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Observations on some of the principal 
faults in the pronunciation of the 
generality of pupils, with the methods 
of correcting them. 

Too slightly sounding the accented Vowels. 

One of the most general faults in reading is 
a slight, short, mincing pronunciation of the 
accented vowels. This produces a harsh, in- 
significant, and trifling sound of the words, in- 
stead of that bold, round, mellow tone, which 
ought to be considered as the basis of speak- 
ing. The vowels which ought most to be at- 
tended to are the a and o. E is the slenderest 
of all the vowels, and i and u are diphthongs 
which terminate in slender sounds, and do not 
afford a sufficient quantity of sound to gratify 
and fill the ear : but the a in all its three sounds 
in bare, bar, and xvar ; fatal, father, and water ; 
has a bold, full sound, which the ear dwells 
upon with pleasure. The sound of o likewise, 
when lengthened by e final, as in tone, or end- 
ing a syllable, as in noble, &c, may be prolonged 
with great satisfaction to the ear ; and it is to a 
judicious prolongation of the sound of these 
vowels, that pronunciation owes one of its 
greatest beauties. Words of this kind should 
therefore be selected and pronounced, first by 
the teacher, and afterward by the pupil, slowly 
and distinctly. 

Too slightly sounding the unaccented Vowels. 

There is an incorrect pronunciation of the 
letter u 3 when it ends a syllable not under the 
accent, which not only prevails among the vul- 
gar, but is sometimes found in better company ; 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 7 

and that is giving the u an obscure sound, 
which confounds it with vowels of a very dif- 
ferent kind. Thus we not unfrequently hear 
singula?^ regular, and particular, pronounced as 
if written sing-e-lar, reg-e-lar, and par-tick-e-lar ; 
but nothing tends more to impoverish and vul- 
garise the pronunciation than this short and ob- 
scure sound of the unaccented u. It may, indeed, 
be observed, that there is scarcely any thing more 
distinguishes a person of a mean from one of a 
good education than the pronunciation of the 
unaccented vowels. When vowels are under the 
accent, the prince and the lowest of the people, 
with very few exceptions, pronounce them in 
the same manner: but the unaccented vowels, in 
the mouth of the former, have a distinct, open, 
and specific sound ; while the latter often totally 
sink them, or change them into some other 
sound. Those, therefore, who wish to pro- 
nounce elegantly, must be particularly attentive 
to the unaccented vowels, as a neat pronunci- 
ation of these, forms one of the greatest beauties 
of speaking. 

The other vowels, when unaccented, are lia- 
ble to nearly the same indistinctness and obscu- 
rity as the u. The first e in event, the first o in 
opinion, and the i in sensible, terrible, &c. are 
apt to go into an obscure sound approaching to 
short u, as if written uvvent, uppinion, sensubble, 
terrubble, &c. — while polite pronunciation, that 
is the least deliberate, requires these vowels to 
be heard nearly as distinctly, and with as much 
purity, as when under the accent. Thus the e 
in event should be pronounced nearly as e in 
equal ; the o in opinion as that in open ; the i in 
the unaccented terminations ible, ity, and at the 
end of other syllables not under the accent, 
ought to have the sound of e, and this sound to 






8 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

be preserved distinct and pure, as if written sen- 
se-hie, ter-re-ble, de-ver-se~ty, u~ne-ver-se-ty,&c: 
nay, so strong' a tendency has a good speaker 
to open the vowels e and o, when ending a syl- 
lable immediately before the accent, that we 
frequently hear these vowels in the words effect, 
efface, occasion, offence, &c, pronounced as if 
the consonant were single: this is certainly a 
deviation from rule, but it is so general among 
polite speakers, and so agreeable to the ear, as 
to be a distinguishing mark of elegant pronun- 
ciation. For the sound of unaccented a, of e 
before r, and i when it has the diphthongal 
sound like eye, see Critical Pronouncing Dic- 
tionary, in the principles prefixed, at N os 92, 98, 
114, 115, &c, 554. 

Wavering and uncertain Pronunciation of Voxvels 
under the Secondary Accent. 

The Secondary Accent is that stress we may 
occasionally place upon another syllable, beside 
that which has the principal accent, in order to 
pronounce every part of the word more distinctly, 
forcibly, and harmoniously. Thus this accent 
is on the first syllable of conversation, com- 
mendation, and the principal accent on the third. 
But from a want of attending to the analogies of 
the language, our best orthoepists have been at 
the greatest loss for the quantity of the vowel 
under the secondary accent, when followed by 
a single consonant. This may be seen at large 
in Principles prefixed to the Critical Pronounc- 
ing Dictionary, N° 530, &c. It will be only 
necessary to observe here, that those polysylla- 
bles which have the principal accent on the 
third syllable, whether we place a secondary ac- 
cent on the first syllable or not, have every vowel, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 9 

except u in that syllable, unless an inverted diph- 
thong succeed, invariably short. Thus the o in 
the first syllable of proposition, provocation, pro- 
fanation, the a in the first of lamentation, the e 
in demonstration, and the i in the first of diminu- 
tion are all short; but if an inverted diphthong 
succeed the first syllable, every vowel except i 
retains its open sound, as amiability, deviation, 
jiliation, spoliation, dubiosity, &c. Where it may 
be observed that the u is always pronounced 
long and open, though under the secondary 
accent, as lucubration, cumulation, &c. 

There is the greater necessity for the observa- 
tion of this rule, as it tends to give a firmness and 
decision to a part of pronunciation which is 
very loosely and variously marked in most of our 
pronouncing dictionaries. A vague idea of 
the propriety of preserving the simple in the 
compound, and of distinguishing the insepara- 
ble preposition from the rest of the word, makes 
many, who are but superficially acquainted with 
the analogies of the language, willing to show 
their precision by pronouncing the o in proposi- 
tion as open as that in propose, and the e in pre- 
paration like that in prepare ; but a larger view 
of the language would have shown these critics, 
this would be to overturn the most settled analo- 
gies of pronunciation. If we attend to those 
sounds which the English ear has almost uni- 
versally received and acknowledged, we shall 
find the result to be this general rule. When a 
penultimate vowel, with the accent upon it, 
ends a syllable, before a single consonant, that 
vowel is long and open, as paper, decent, silence, 
local, lucid, &c. — but when any antepenultimate 
vowel, except u, is under the same predicament, 
it is short, as fabulous, delicate, diligence, provi- 
dence, luculent. This genuine analogy of Eng- 



10 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

lish pronunciation has been crossed and coun- 
teracted by an affectation of reducing our quan- 
tity to that of the Latin ; but, though this 
pedantry has prevailed in words of two syllables, 
where, to the great injury of the sound of our 
language, it has reduced long vowels to short 
ones, it has made little alteration in polysyl- 
lables, where we find the antepenultimate, or 
preantepenultimate, accent still preserves its 
shortening power, notwithstanding the attempts 
of some speakers to pronounce the first e in le- 
gislature, and the first o in proposition, long. 
An Englishman, therefore, who wishes to fol- 
low that path which nature (or, which is nearly 
the same, unpremeditated custom) has chalked 
out, will, as far as polite usage will permit him, 
pronounce the penultimate vowel long and 
open, and the antepenultimate short and shut. 
Thus a proper mixture of long and short vowels 
will be preserved, and the ear be indulged in 
that vernacular propensity, which nature seems 
to have given it. 

See this explained at large in Principles of 
English Pronunciation, prefixed to the Critical 
Pronouncing Dictionary, N os 544, 545, &c, and 
Key to the Classical Pronunciation of Greek and 
Latin Proper Names, page xxv, N° 18, &c. 



Liquid Sound of K, C, or G hard, before the 
Vowels A and L 



There is a fluent liquid sound of these conso- 
nants before the two vowels a and i, which 
gives a smooth and elegant sound to the words 
in which they occur, and which distinguishes 
the polite pronunciation of London from that 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. II 

of every other part of the island. This pro- 
nunciation is nearly as if the a and i were pre- 
ceded by e. Thus, kind is sounded as if written 
ke-ind ; card, as ke-ard ; and regard, as re-ge- 
ard. When these vowels are pronounced short, 
as in cabbage, gander, kindle, &c, the interposi- 
tion of the sound of e is very perceptible, and 
indeed unavoidable; for though we can pro- 
nounce guard, cart, and kind, without interposing 
the e, we cannot pronounce carriage, garrison, 
and kindred in the same manner. The words 
that require this liquid sound in the k, c, and o 
hard, are but few. Sky, kind, guide, gird, girt, 
girl, guise, guile, card, cart, carp, carpenter, 
carpet, carve, carbuncle, carnal, cartridge, 
guard, and regard ; — these and their compounds 
are perhaps the only words where this sound 
occurs; but these words are so much in use as 
to be sufficient to mark a speaker as either coarse 
or elegant, as he adopts or neglects it. 

This sound is taken notice of bv Steele in his 

j 

English grammar, p. 49, so long ago as the 
reign of queen Anne : but he ascribes it to the 
consonant's being followed by a palative vowel, 
as he calls the a in can, the e in get, and the i 
in begin, which he says, " are sounded as if 
" written cyan, gyet, begyin, &c, because the 
" tongue can scarce pass from these gutteral 
" consonants to form the palative vowels, but 
f( it must pronounce y ; but it is not so before 
(C the other vowels, as in call, gall, go, gun, 
M goose, come, &c." This observation of Steele's 
goes no farther than to such words as cannot 
possibly be pronounced without the intervention 
of the e or y sound ; but to this it may be add- 
ed, that though such words as have the long 
sound of the a in father ; or the same long 
sound heard before r final, or followed by an- 



12 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

other consonant in the same syllable, as car, 
card, regard ; or such words as have the long i 9 
or the short i, followed by r, as kirk, gird, girl ; 
— I say, though these words may be pronounced 
without the intervention of c or y, yet with it 
they are not only more mellow and fluent, but 
infinitely more elegant and fashionable. 

At first sight we are surprised that two such 
different letters as a and i should be affected in the 
same manner by the hard gutterals, g, c, and k ; 
but when we reflect that i is really composed of 
a and e, our surprise ceases ; and we are pleased 
to find the ear perfectly uniform in its procedure, 
and entirely unbiassed by the eye. From this 
view of the analogy, we may see how much mis- 
taken is a very solid and ingenious writer on this 
subject, who says, that " ky-ind for kind is a 
" monster of pronunciation, heard only on our 
" stage." Nares's Orthoepy, p. 28. See Cri- 
tical Pronouncing Dictionary, under the word 
Guilt. 



The liquid Sound of T, D, S, and soft C, after 
the Accent, and before the sewiconsonant 
Diphthongs. 

Nothing can be better established in the ge- 
nuine pronunciation of our language than the 
liquid sibilation of these consonants, when the 
accent comes after them, and the inverted diph- 
thongs succeed. This is evident in the nume- 
rous terminations in tion, sion. cion ; and if we 
had words ending in dion, it is not to be doubted 
but that they would flow into the same current 
of sound. 

The general ear, true to analogy, melts these 
consonants into the soft hiss before the long u ; 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 13 

for though apparently a single letter, it is com- 
posed of e oo, or rather y oo, and is therefore 
not only not a pure vowel, but a semiconsonant 
diphthong, exactly in sound like the pronoun 
you. Hence we hear polite speakers always 
pronounce educate, as if written edjucate ; virtue 
as verchezv, verdure as verjure : and if the ge- 
neral ear were not corrupted by being corrected, 
we should in the same analogy hear Indian 
pronounced Injian; odious, qjeous; and insidious, 
insidjeous. In this pronunciation of these words, 
the speaker has always the strongest analogy on 
his side ; but he ought to avoid sinking the z, 
and reducing Indian into two syllables, as if 
written In-jian ; odious as o-jus ; and insidious 
as insid-jus. The i ought to be heard distinctly 
like e in these words, as if written and divided 
into In-je-an, o-je-us, msid-jc-ous, &c. 

For want of attending to this evident analogy, 
there are few English words more frequently 
mispronounced than the word pronunciation. A 
mere English scholar, who considers the word to 
pronounce as the root of it, cannot easily con- 
ceive why the o is thrown out of the second syl- 
lable ; and therefore, to correct the mistake, 
sounds the word as if written pronunciation. 
Those who are sufficiently learned to escape 
this errour, by understanding that the word 
comes to us either from the Latin pronunciation 
or the French prononciation, are very apt to fall 
into another, by sinking the first aspiration, and 
pronouncing the third syllable like the noun sea. 
But these speakers ought to take notice, that, 
throughout the whole language, c, s, and t, pre- 
ceded by the accent, either primary or second- 
ary, and followed by ea, ia, io, or any similar 
diphthong, always becomes aspirated, and are 
pronounced as if written site. Thus the very 



14 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

same reasons that oblige us to pronounce par* 
tiality, propitiation , especially ', &c, as if written 
parsheality, propisheation, espesheally, &c., ob- 
lige us to pronounce pronunciation as if written 
pronuncheashun. See Principles prefixed to the 
Critical Pronouncing Dictionary, N os 357, 450, 
461, and the word Ecclesiastick. We may 
conclude by observing, that this liquid sound of 
these letters is no fanciful departure from true 
orthography, but is the genuine and spontaneous 
production of the national ear ; and as it tends 
to give a mellow flow of sound to a considerable 
part of the language, it should certainly not be 
discouraged. 

In this word, and some of the other exam- 
ples, it may be noted, that the secondary accent 
operates on these letters exactly in the same 
manner as the primary : and that as the second- 
ary accent is before the cia, it makes it she-a 9 
as much as the primary before tion makes it 
shun. 

Suppressirig the Sound of the final Consonants, 

One great cause of indistinctness in reading, 
is sinking the sound of some of the final con- 
sonants,, when they are followed by words be- 
ginning with vowels, and of some when the 
next word begins with a consonant. Thus the 
word and is frequently pronounced like the arti- 
cle an, both before a vowel and a consonant, as, 
Both men and money are wanting to carry on the 
war ; where we hear this sentence as if written, 
Both men an money are xvanting to carry on the 
war. The suppression of d in this case is, 
however, much more tolerable than when it is 
followed by a vowel, and particularly the vowel 
a, followed by n; for in this position there is 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 15 

not only a disagreeable repetition of the same 
sound, but, in some measure, a confusion in the 
sense. Thus we often hear that A subject is car- 
ried on by question and answer, as if written, The 
subject is carried on by question an answer ; and 
He made his meal of an apple and an egg, as if 
written, he made his meal of an apple an an egg. 
So that it ought to be made a general rule al- 
ways to pronounce the d in and, when a vowel 
begins the next word, and particularly when 
that word begins with an. 

The sound of f, when final, is liable to the 
same suppression when a consonant begins the 
succeeding word, and particularly the th. No- 
thing is more common than to hear The xvant of 
men is occasioned by the xvant of money, pro- 
nounced the want o' men is occasioned by the 
xvant o 9 money ; and, I spoke of the man who told 
me of the woman you mentioned, as if written, 
I spoke tf the man who told me o' the woman you 
mentioned. 

It may, however, be observed in mitigation 
of this, that where there is no pause between 
words, the last consonant of one word, and the 
first of another word, are very apt to coalesce, 
like double consonants, which are really double 
only to the eye ; but when there is a perceptible 
pause at the end of a sentence, or member of a 
sentence, the final consonant ought then to be 
pronounced distinctly ; and instead of letting 
the organs remain on the last letter till the sound 
dies, they ought to be smartly separated, by 
sounding what the French call the mute e after 
the final consonant. All the mute consonants 
are liable to this imperfect pronunciation, but it 
is in none more perceptible than in words end- 
ing with t or d, especially if preceded by an- 
other consonant. Thus, if I say, / took doxvn my 



16 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

hat, but before I had put it on my head, Mr. 
Johnson came into the room, and let the tongue 
remain on the palate on the t and d f at the end 
of the words hat and head, they want much of 
that articulation they would have if the tongue 
were smartly separated by a rebound, as it were, 
from the palate, and the mute e pronounced 
after them somewhat as if spelled in this man- 
ner : / took down my hat-te, but before I had put 
it on my head-de, Mr. Johnson came into the 
room. 

The same want of articulation may be per- 
ceived in the following sentence, if the tongue 
be suffered to remain too long on the palate, on 
the consonants at the end of the words in the 
following sentence : He received the zvhole of the 
rent, before he parted with the land. And the 
superior distinctness of pronouncing it with 
the t and d, finished by a smart separation of 
the organs, and somewhat as if written, He re- 
ceive-de the whole of the ren-te, before he parte- 
de with the lan-de. The judicious reader will 
observe that this rule must be followed with dis- 
cretion, and that the final consonant must not 
be so pronounced as to form a distinct syllable ; 
this would be to commit a greater errour than 
that which it was intended to prevent : but as it 
may with confidence be asserted, that audibility- 
depends chiefly on articulation, so it may be af- 
firmed that articulation depends much on the 
distinctness with which we hear the final conso- 
nants ; and trifling therefore as these observations 
may appear at first sight, — when we consider the 
importance of audibility, we shall not think any- 
thing that conduces to such an object below our 
notice. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 17 



The rough and smooth Sound of R. 

Scarcely any letter is more difficult to pro- 
nounce with propriety than the r. What forms 
great part of the peculiarity of the Irish accent, 
as it is called, is the rough and harsh pronun- 
ciation of this letter; and the soft, smooth, or 
rather inarticulate sound of it, marks a striking 
singularity of what is called the cockney pro- 
nunciation, or the pronunciation of the common 
people of London ; so that the true sound of 
this letter seems to lie in the medium between 
these extremes. 

Rut first it will be necessary to observe, what 
I have never found noticed by any of our or- 
thoepists, that as the Greek and some other 
languages have a rough and a smooth, or a harsh 
and a soft r, so has the English, and that each 
of these are proper in certain situations. The 
rough r is formed by jarring the tip of the 
tongue against the roof of the mouth, near the 
fore-teeth ; the smooth r is a vibration of the 
lower part of the tongue, near the root, against 
the inward region of the palate, as close to 
each other as possible, without coming into 
contact. The first r is proper at the beginning 
of words, and the second at the end of words, 
or when succeeded by a consonant. In Eng- 
land, and particularly in London, the r in bar, 
bard, card, regard, &c. is pronounced so much 
in the throat as to be little more than the middle 
or Italian a, heard in father, as if written baa, 
baad, caad, regaad; while in Ireland the r, in these 
words, is pronounced with so strong a jar of the 
tongue against the fore-part o^ the palate, and 
accompanied with such an aspiration, or strong 
breathing at the beginning of. the letter, as to pro- 

c 



18 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

duce that harshness we call the Irish accent. But 
if this letter is too forcibly pronounced, in Ire- 
land, it is often too feebly sounded in England, 
and particularly in London, where it is some- 
times entirely sunk; and it may, perhaps, be 
worthy of observation, that provided we avoid 
a too forcible pronunciation of the r, when it 
ends a word, or is followed by a consonant in 
the same syllable, we may give as much force as 
we please to this letter at the beginning of a 
word, without producing any harshness to the 
ear. Thus Rome, river, rage, may have the r 
as forcible as in Ireland ; but bar, bard, card, re- 
gard, &c, must have it nearly as soft as in Lon- 
don. This letter, therefore, forms an exception 
to the foregoing rule. 



His ing too much the Terminations tion, sion, 

&c. 

There is a vicious manner of pronouncing 
these terminations, by giving them a sharp hiss, 
which crushes the consonants together, and to- 
tally excludes the vowels, as if the words nation, 
occasion, &c, were written na-shn, occa-zhn, 
&c. As words of these terminations are very 
numerous in the language, any improper mode 
of sounding them must tarnish the whole pro- 
nunciation, and therefore ought to be most 
carefully guarded against. These terminations, 
therefore, ought to be pronounced as distinctly 
as if written, nashun, occazhun, &c. The diph- 
thong io, for want of the accent, is sunk into 
that sound which is annexed to the o in the last 
syllable of honour, favour, terrour, &c, which 
can be classed with nothing so much related to it 
as short u. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 19 



Pronouncing s indistinctly after st. 

The letter s after st, from the very difficulty 
of its pronunciation, is often sounded inarticu- 
lately. The inhabitants of London of the lower 
order cut the knot, and pronounce it in a distinct 
syllable, as if e were before it; but this is to be 
avoided as the greatest blemish in speaking: 
the three last letters in posts, fists, mists, &c, 
must all be distinctly heard in one syllable, and 
without either permitting the letters to coalesce, 
as if written pose,fiss, miss, &c, or suffering the 
ts to make a distinct syllable like the vulgar of 
London, as if written pos-tes,fis-tes, mis-tes, &c, 
but letting the t be heard, however feebly, yet 
distinctly, between the two hissing letters. For 
the acquiring of this sound, it will be proper to 
select nouns that end in st or ste ; to form them 
into plurals, and pronounce them forcibly and 
distinctly every day. The same may be observed 
of the third person of verbs ending in sts or stes, 
as persists, wastes, pastes, &c. 

Pronouncing w for v, and inversely. 

The pronunciation of v for w, and more fre- 
quently of w for v, among the inhabitants of 
London, and those not always of the lower or- 
der, is a blemish of the first magnitude. The 
difficulty of remedying this defect is the greater, 
as the cure of one of these mistakes has a tenden- 
cy to promote the other. 

Thus, if you are very careful to make a pupil 
pronounce veal and vinegar, not as if written 
zveal and winegar, you will find him very apt to 
pronounce wine and wind, as if written vine and 
vind. The only method of rectifying this habit 

c 2 



20 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

seems to be this. Let the pupil select from a 
dictionary, not only all the words that begin 
with v, but as many as he can of those that have 
this letter in any other part. Let him be told to 
bite his under lip while he is sounding the v in 
those words, and to practise this every day till he 
pronounces the v properly at first sight: then, 
and not till then, let him pursue the same me- 
thod with the w ; which he must be directed to 
pronounce by a pouting out of the lips, without 
suffering them to touch the teeth. Thus, by 
giving all the attention to only one of these let- 
ters at a time, and fixing by habit the true sound 
of that, we shall at last find both of them re- 
duced to their proper pronunciation, in a short- 
er time than by endeavouring to rectify them 
both at once. 

Not sounding h after w. 

The aspirate A is often sunk, particularly in 
the capital, where we do not find the least dis- 
tinction of sound between while and wile, whet 
and zvet, where and were, &c. Trifling as this 
difference may appear at first sight, it tends 
greatly to weaken and impoverish the pronunci- 
ation, as well as sometimes to confound words 
of a very different meaning. The best method 
to rectify this is, to collect all the words of this 
description from a dictionary, and write them 
down ; and instead of the wh, to begin them with 
hoo in a distinct syllable, and so to pronounce 
them. Thus let while be written and sounded 
hoo-ile; zvhetjwo-et ; where, lioo-are; whip,hoo-ip ; 
&c. This is no more, as Dr. Lowth observes, 
than placing the aspirate in its true position, be- 
fore the w, as it is in the Saxon, which the words 
come from ; where we may observe, that, though 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 21 

we have altered the orthography of our ances- 
tors, we have still preserved their pronunciation. 



Not sounding h where it ought to be sounded, 
and inversely. 

A still worse habit than the last prevails, 
chiefly among the people of London, that of 
sinking the h at the beginning of words where 
it ought to be sounded, and of sounding it, either 
where it is not seen, or where it ought to be 
sunk. Thus we not unfrequently hear, especial- 
ly among children, heart pronounced art, and 
arm, harm. This is a vice perfectly similar to 
that of pronouncing the v for the w' s and the tv for 
the v, and requires a similar method to correct it. 
As there are but so very few words in the lan- 
guage where the initial h is sunk, we may select 
these from the rest ; and, without setting the pu- 
pil right when he mispronounces these, or when 
he prefixes the h improperly to other words, we 
may make him pronounce all the words where h 
is sounded, till he has almost forgot there are any 
words pronounced otherwise. Then he may go 
over those words to which he improperly pre- 
fixes the //, and those where the h is seen but not 
sounded, without any danger of an interchange. 
As these latter words are but few, I shall subjoin 
a catalogue of them for the use of the learner. 
Heir, heiress, herb, herbage, honest, honesty, 
honestly, honour, honour able, honour ably, hospital, 
hostler, hour, hourly, humble, humbly, humbles, 
humour, humourist, humourous, humourously, hu- 
moursome. Where we may observe, that humour, 
and its compounds, not only sink the h, but sound 
the u like the pronoun you or the noun yew, as if 
written yewmour, yezvmourous, &c. 



22 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Suppressing e where it should be pronounced, and 
pronouncing it where it should be suppressed. 

The vowel e before / and n in a final unac- 
cented syllable, by its being sometimes sup- 
pressed and sometimes not, forms one of the most 
puzzling difficulties in teaching young people to 
read. When any of the liquids precede these 
letters, the e is heard distinctly, as woollen, 
flannel, women, syren; but when any of the 
other consonants come before these letters, the e 
is sometimes heard, as in novel, sudden; and 
sometimes not, as in szvivel, sadden, &c. As 
no other rule can be given for this variety of 
pronunciation, perhaps the best way will be to 
draw the line between those words where e is 
pronounced, and those where it is not; and this, 
by the help of the rhyming dictionary, 
I am easily enabled to do. In the first place, 
then, it may be observed, that e before /, in a 
final unaccented syllable, must always be pro- 
nounced distinctly, except in the following words : 
shekel, weasel, ousel, nousel, (better written nuz- 
zle ,) navel, ravel, snivel, rivel, drivel, shrivel, 
shovel, grovel, hazel, drazel, nozel. These words 
are pronounced as if thee were omitted by an 
apostrophe, as shek'l, weazH, ouil, &c, or rather 
as if written, sheckle, zveazle, ouzle, &c. — but 
as these are the only words of this termination 
that are so pronounced, great care must be 
taken that children do not pronounce travel, 
gravel, rebel, (the substantive,) parcel, chapel, 
and vessel, in the same manner ; a fault to which 
they are very liable. 

E before n, in a final unaccented syllable, and 
not preceded by a liquid, must always be sup- 
pressed, except in the following words : sudden, 
mynchen, kitchen, hyphen, chicken, ticken, (better 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 23 

written ticking), jerken, aspen, platen, paten, 
marten, latten, patten, leaven or leven, sloven. In 
these words the e is heard distinctly, contrary to 
the general rule which suppresses the e in these 
syllables, when preceded by a mute, as harden, 
heathen, Heaven, as if written hard'n, heattin, 
Heavn, &c. ; nay even when preceded by a li- 
quid in the words fallen and stolen, where the e 
is suppressed, as if they were written falVn and 
stoVn : garden and burden, therefore, are very 
analogically pronounced gard'n and burd'n, and 
this pronunciation ought the rather to be in- 
dulged, as we always hear the e suppressed in 
gardener and burdensome, as if written gardener 
and burdensome. 

This diversity in the pronunciation of these 
terminations ought the more carefully to be at- 
tended to, as nothing is so vulgar and childish as 
to hear sxcivel and Heaven pronounced with the 
e distinctly, or novel and chicken with the e sup- 
pressed. To these observations we may add, 
that though evil and devil suppress the i, as if 
written ev'l and devl, yet that cavil and pencil 
preserve the sound of i distinctly ; and that latin 
ought never to be pronounced, as it is generally 
at schools, as if written lafn. 



U RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



Observations on the pronunciation op 
certain words most frequently mis- 
taken in reading. 

The true Sound of the Auxiliary Verbs ; also 
when ed makes an additional Syllable, and 
when not. 

The auxiliary verbs, shall, would, could, should, 
are, and have, should never be pronounced 
shawll, zvold, cold, shold, air, and havce, but shal, 
wood, cood, shood, arr, and haw.* 

The participial termination ed must never be 
pronounced as a distinct syllable, unless preceded 
by d or t, except in the language of Scripture. 
One distinction indeed seems to have obtained 
between some adjectives and participles, which 
is, pronouncing the ed in an additional syllable 
in the former, and sinking it in the latter. 
Thus when learned, cursed, blessed, and winged, 
are adjectives, the ed is invariably pronounced 
as a distinct syllable ; but when participles, as 
learn d, curs'd, bless'd, and wing'd, the ed does 
not form an additional syllable. Poetry, how- 
ever, assumes the privilege of using these ad- 
jectives either way, but correct prose rigidly 
exacts the pronunciation of ed in these words, 

* The auxiliary verbs are as irregular in their pronuncia- 
tion as in their form ; and recur so often in forming the moods 
and tenses of other verbs, that too great care cannot be taken 
to pronounce them exactly right. For this purpose it would 
be a useful exercise, to make the pupil frequently conjugate 
the two auxiliary verbs are and have through all their moods 
and tenses ; taking particular care, that org is pronounced like 
the first syllable of ar-dent ; have with the a short, as in the 
first syllable of tavern ; and shall, exactly as the first syllable 
of shal-low. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 25 

when adjectives, as a distinct syllable. The ed 
in aged always makes a distinct syllable, as an 
aged man ; but when this word is compounded 
with another, the ed does not form a syllable, as 
afull-agd horse. 

It is perhaps worthy of notice, that when adjec- 
tives are changed into adverbs, by the addition of 
the termination ly, we often find the participial 
ed preserved long and distinct ; even in those 
very words where it was contracted when used 
adjectivelv. Thus, though we always hear con- 
fessed, professed, design d, &c, we as constantly 
hear con-fess-ed-ly, pro-fess-ed-ly, de-sign-ed-ly, 
&c. The same may be observed of the following 
list of words, which by the assistance of the 
Rhyming Dictionary I am enabled to give, as the 
only words in the language in which the ed is 
pronounced as a distinct syllable in the adverb, 
where it is contracted in the participial adjective. 
— Forcedly, enforcedly, unveiledly, deformedly, 
fcignedly, unfeignedly, designedly, resignedly, re- 
strainedly, rejinedly, unconcernedly, undis^cerned- 
ly, preparedly, assuredly, advisedly, composedly, 
dispersedly, diffusedly, confusedly, unperccivedly, 
resolvedly, deservedly, undeservedly, reservedly, 
unreservedly, avowedly, perplexedly, jivedly, 
ama.zedly, forkedly. 

When you is to be pronounced like ye ; and my 
like me, &c. 

Another very common errour in reading 
arises from pronouncing the personal pronoun 
you in the same manner, whether it is in the no- 
minative or the oblique case ; or, in other words, 
whether it is the principal or the subordinate 
word in a sentence. It is certain that the pro- 
nouns you and my, when they are contradistin- 



26 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

guished from other pronouns, and consequently 
emphatical, are always pronounced with their full 
open sound, you, my. But it is as certain, if we 
observe the pronunciation of correct conversation, 
that we shall find them sounded ye and me, when 
they are subordinate words in the sentence, and 
have no emphasis on them. For example : You 
told him all the truth. Here the word you is a 
nominative case, that is, it goes before the word 
denoting action, and must therefore be pro- 
nounced full and open, so as to rhyme with new. 
In this sentence also, He told You before he told 
any body else ; the word you is in the oblique 
case, or comes after the word denoting action, 
but as it is emphatical by being contradistinguish- 
ed from any body else, it preserves its full open 
sound as before. But in the sentence, Though 
he told you, he had no right to tell you — here the 
pronoun you is in the oblique case, or follows 
the word denoting action, and, having no dis- 
tinctive emphasis, invariably falls into the sound 
of the antiquated form of this pronoun, ye ; and 
as if written, Though he told ye, he had no right 
to tell ye * 

The same observations hold good with respect 
to the pronoun my. If we w r ere to say, My pen 
is as bad as my paper, we should necessarily pro- 
nounce my like me, as, in this sentence, pen and 
paper are the emphatical words ; but if I were 
to say, My pen is worse than yours, here my is in 

* Perhaps it was this pronunciation of the pronoun you, 
when in the oblique case, which induced Shakspeare and 
Milton sometimes to write it ye : though, as Dr. Lowth ob- 
serves, very ungrammatically. 

The more shame for ye, holy men I thought, ye. 

Henry VIII. 

His wrath which one day will destroy ye both. 

Milton, Par. Lost. b. ii. 1. 704- . 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 27 

antithesis with yours, and consequently must he 
pronounced long and full, so as to rhyme with 
high, nigh, &c. 

The word your is exactly under the same pre- 
dicament. When the emphasis is laid upon this 
word, it is always pronounced full and open, ex- 
actly like the substantive ewer ; as, The moment 
I had read Your letter I sat dozen to write Mine: 
but, when it is not emphatical, it sinks naturally 
into yur ; exactly like the last syllable of Law- 
yer, as, / had just answered yur first letter as 
yur last arrived. On the contrary, if it were to 
be said, I had just answered Your first letter as 
Your last arrived, with your sounded like ezcer, 
as in the former sentence, every delicate ear 
would be offended. A few examples may serve 
to illustrate these observations still farther. 

" Your paper is a part of my tea-equipage; 
" and my servant knows my humour so well, that 
f{ calling for my breakfast this morning, (it being 
" past my usual hour) she answered, the Specta- 
" tor was not yet come in." Spect. IS . 9:2. 

In this example we find every my but the fourth 
may be pronounced so as to rhyme with high, and 
it would intimate the singularity of the tea-equi- 
page, the servant, and the humour, as opposed 
to, or distinguished from those who have no such 
tea-equipage, servant, or humour; but breakfast, 
having no such singularity or opposition of 
meaning to other breakfasts, cannot have my be- 
fore it pronounced like high without being ab- 
surd. Not that the sense necessarily requires 
the full sound of my before the former words, 
but admits of it only ; nay, the repetition of 
their sound being disagreeable to the ear, and 
the sense not demanding it, perhaps the best 
mode of reading this passage would be to confine 



28 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the full sound of my to that which precedes the 
word humour. Your at the beginning of the 
sentence, requires the full sound rhyming with 
'pure; as it distinguishes the Spectator from 
other papers, but in the following part of the 
same letter : 

" Having thus, in part, signified the esteem 

<c and veneration which I have for you, I must 

" put you in mind of the catalogue of books 

" which you have promised to recommend to 

{( our sex ; for I have deferred furnishing my 

<c closet with authors, till I receive your advice 

" in this particular, being your daily disciple, 

" and humble servant, " Leonora." 

However we may pronounce the word your 
preceding the word advice, the last your must 
necessarily be pronounced short like yur. This 
sound of the possessive pronoun your always 
takes place where it is used to signify any parti- 
cular species of persons or things. Thus Ad- 
dison, speaking of the metaphors which profes- 
sional men most commonly fall into, says, 
" Your men of business usually have recourse to 
cc such instances as are too mean and familiar." 
Spect. N°. 421. — And Cleopatra, in All for Love, 
speaking of the Roman poets, says, 

Mere poetry ! 



Your Roman wits, your Gallus and Tibullus, 
Have taught ye this from Cytheris and Delia. 

Dryden. 



When of, for, from, and by, are to have a long, 
and when a shoi^t Sound. 

A distinction similar to those we have been 
observing seems to have taken place in the pro- 
nunciation of the preposition of. The consonant 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 29 

of this word is almost invariably pronounced 
like the consonants; and when the word does 
not come before some of the pronouns at the 
end of a sentence, or member of a sentence, we 
sometimes suffer the vowel o to slide into the 
sound of the vowel u ; and the word may be said 
to rhyme with love, dove, &c. Thus, in the well- 
known couplet in the tragedy of the Fair Peni- 
tent : 

Of all the various wretches Love has made, 
How few we find by men of sense betray'd ! 

The two ofs in this couplet we find, may, with- 
out any very palpable departure from propriety, 
be pronounced as if written uv ; rhyming with 
dove, &c. — but when the words it, him, her, them, 
or any other personal pronoun follows of, either 
in the middle or at the end of a sentence, the 
word of must then be pronounced as when heard 
singly, rhyming with the first syllable of nov-el, 
hov-el. Thus every ear will readily perceive the 
impropriety of reciting the following sentence in 
this manner, — We never know the true value uv 
time till we are deprived uv it ; and the superior 
propriety, as well as harmony of this maimer, — 
IVe never know the true value uv tune till we are 
deprived ov it. 

The same observations hold good with respect 
to the words from, by, for, and every word that in 
certain positions may admit of a less distinct and 
emphatical sound ; for we may allowably pro- 
wouuhq from as if written frum in the sentence, 
I delivered him from the danger lie zvas in ; but 
we must always pronounce it nearly as if written 
fraum in such sentences as the following : I came 
from him : I delivered him from it. 

The word by is liable also to a double sound 
in different situations; that is, sometimes like 



30 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the verb be, and sometimes like buy. Thus we 
may say either, He died by {be) his own hands : 
or, He died by { buy ) his own hands : but we must 
necessarily pronounce it buy, when it comes 
before the word it, him, or any similar word at 
the end of a sentence : as, zvhatever xvas the wea- 
pon, he died by (buy) it. 

In the same manner we may say, / zvrote to a 
friend for {fur) his advice: but we must invari- 
ably say. He would not give me his advice though 
I wrote for (faur) it. In these instances we 
plainly perceive, that there is something left to 
taste, and something established by custom. But 
notwithstanding the little hold we have of these 
fleeting sounds, that convey to us these less im- 
portant parts of a sentence, we have still suffi- 
cient perception of them for establishing this ge- 
neral rule. When these signs of cases, of from 
by, for, are in the middle of a sentence, they are 
sometimes liable to a double sound ; but when 
at the end of a sentence, or member of a sen- 
tence, and succeeded by it, him, her, or them, 
they are invariably pronounced as when heard 
singly of from, by, for, &c. 

How to pronounce the Possessive Pronoun Thv. 

From what has been already observed of the 
pronoun my, we are naturally led to suppose, 
that the word thy, when not emphatical, ought 
to follow the same analogy, and be pronounced 
like the, as we frequently hear it on the stage : 
but if we reflect, that reading or reciting is a per- 
fect picture of speaking, we shall be induced to 
think, that in this particular the stage is some- 
times wrong. The second personal pronoun 
thy is not, like my, the common language of 
every subject; it is used only where the sub- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 3 1 

ject is either raised above common life, or sunk 
below it into the mean and familiar. When the 
subject is elevated above common life,, it adopts 
a language suitable to such an elevation, and 
the pronunciation of this language ought to be 
as far removed from the familiar as the language 
itself. Thus, in prayer, pronouncing thy like 
the, even when unemphatical, would be intole- 
rable : while suffering thy, when unemphatical, 
to slide into the in the pronunciation of slight 
and familiar composition, seems to lower the 
sound to the language, and form a proper dis- 
tinction between different subjects. If therefore 
it should be asked, why, in reciting epic or 
tragic composition, we ought always to pro- 
nounce thy rhyming with high, while my, when 
unemphatical, sinks into the sound of me, it may 
be answered, because my is the common lan- 
guage of every subject, while thy is confined to 
subjects either elevated above common life, or 
sunk below it into the endearing and familiar. 
When, therefore, the language is elevated, the 
uncommon ness of the word thy, and its full 
sound rhyming with high, is suitable to the dig- 
nity of the subjeet ; but the slender sound like 
the gives it a familiarity, only suitable to the lan- 
guage of endearment or negligence, and for this 
very reason is unfit for the dignity of epic or 
tragic composition. Thus in the following pas- 
sage from Milton : 

Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view, 

Nor the deep tract of Hell 

Parad. Lost, b. 1. 

O thou, that, with surpassing glory crown'd, 
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the God 
Of this new world ; at whose sight, all the stars 
Hide their diminish'd heads ; to thee I call, 
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 
O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams. 

Farad. Lost, b. 4-. 



32 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Here pronouncing the pronoun thy, like the 
word the, would familiarise and debase the lan- 
guage to prose. The same may be observed of 
the following passage from the Tragedy of Cato: 

Now, Caesar, let thy troops beset our gates, 
And bar each avenue ; thy gathering fleets 
O'erspread the sea, and stop up ev'ry port ; 
Cato shall open to himself a passage, 
And mock thy hopes. 

Here the impropriety of pronouncing thy like 
the is palpable: nor would it be much more ex- 
cusable in the following speech of Portius, in 
the first scene of the same tragedy : 

Thou seest not that thy brother is thy rival ; 
But I must hide it, for I know thy temper. 
Now, Marcus, now thy virtue's on the proof: 
Put forth thy utmost strength, work ev'ry nerve, 
And call up all thy father in thy soul. 

As this pronoun is generally pronounced on 
the stage, it would be difficult for the ear to 
distinguish whether the words are 

Thou know'st not that thy brother is thy rival — or 
Thou know'st not that the brother is the rival, Sfc, 

and this may be one reason why the slender pro- 
nunciation of thy should be avoided as much as 
possible. 

Perhaps it will be urged, that though these 
passages require thy to be pronounced so as to 
rhyme with high, there are other instances in 
tragedy where the subject is low and familiar, 
which would be more suitably pronounced by 
sounding thy like the : to which it may be au- 
swered, when Tragedy lowers her voice, and de- 
scends into the mean and familiar, as is fre- 
quently the case in the tragedies of Shakspeare, 
the slender pronunciation of thy may be adopt- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 33 

ed, because, though the piece may have the 
name of a tragedy, the scene may be really co- 
medy. The only rule, therefore, that can be 
given, is a very indefinite one; namely, that thy 
ought always to be pronounced so as to rhyme 
with high, when the subject is raised and the 
personage dignified : but when the subject is 
familiar, and the person we address without 
dignity or importance, if thy be the personal 
pronoun made use of, it ought to be pro- 
nounced like the : Thus, if, in a familiar way, we 
say to a friend, Give me thy hand, we never hear 
the pronoun thy sounded so as to rhyme with high : 
and it is always pronounced like the when 
speaking to a child ; we say, Mind thy book, 
Hold up thy head, or Take off thy hat. The 
phraseology we call thee and thouing is not in so 
common use with us as the tutoyant among the 
French ; but as the second personal pronoun 
thou, and its possessive thy, are indispensable in 
composition, it seems of some importance to pro- 
nounce them properly. 

Hoxv to pronounce the Adjective Possessive Pro- 
noun Mine. 

I call this word an adjective possessive 
when it is used before a substantive, as it con- 
stantly is in Scripture when the substantive be- 
gins with a vowel: as "Mine eyes have seen 
" thy salvation : " and a substantive posses- 
sive when it stands alone, as, " This book is 
" mine." In reading the Scripture we are at 
no loss about the pronunciation of this word, as 
the dignity and solemnity of the composition in- 
variably directs us to give the i its long sound, 
as in the substantive ; but in Milton, and other 

D 



34 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

composition, where there is no such dignity or 
solemnity, this pronunciation of the word has 
an intolerable stiffness, and ought not to be 
used. Thus, in the Spectator, N° 195, Mr. 
Addison says, " Were I to prescribe a rule for 
" drinking, it should be formed upon a saying 
" quoted by Sir William Temple :— The first 
cc glass for myself, the second for my friends, the 
" third for good humour, and the fourth for 
« mine enemies/' In Milton too, 



-Methought, 



Close at mine ear, one call'd me forth to walk. 

Parad. Lost. 

In Shakspeare also ; 



•Sleeping within mine orchard, 



My custom always in the afternoon, 

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, 

With juice of curs'd hebona in a phial, 

And in the porches of mine ears did pour 

The leperous distilment. Hamlet. 

In all these instances we find a formality, a 
staleness and uncouthness of sound, that is pe- 
culiarly displeasing to the ear : and as this mode 
of writing was introduced when our pronuncia- 
tion may be said to have been in its infancy, for 
the sake of euphony (for it is clearly ungramma- 
tical), so now that it may be said to have arrived 
at its maturity, the very same reason seems to 
entitle the present age to alter it : that is, I 
mean the pronunciation of it, by substituting 
my pronounced like me in its stead. 

The disagreeable sound which mine has, in 
these cases, to the ear, has inclined several 
readers to pronounce it min ; but by thus min- 
ing the matter (if the pun will be pardoned me) 
they mutilate the word, and leave it more dis- 
agreeable to the ear than it was before. Readers 
therefore seem to have no choice but to pro- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 35 

nounce it always as it is written, and to let the 
author be answerable for the ill sound : or, in all 
language, but that of Scripture, to change it into 
my pronounced like me. Shakspeare seems to 
have used this word ludicrously in the Merry 
Wives of Windsor, where Falstaff says, "Mine 
" host of the garter : — truly mine host, I must 
" turn away some of my followers : " and the 
host, by requesting Falstaff to speak scholarly 
and wisely, seems to intimate that this use of 
the word mine before a vowel or an h was the 
most correct way of speaking. 

But though thy, in familiar or ludicrous lan- 
guage, will admit of being changed in sound to 
the, — mine will on no occasion suffer an altera- 
tion into min. When it is used familiarly, it is al- 
ways a burlesque upon the grave use of it, and 
therefore requires the grave sound to be retained, 
or the humour of it would be lost. 

The indistinct sound of the xvord Not. 

From the frequent pronunciation of this word 
without the least necessity of placing an accent 
on it, we find it sometimes fall into an indistinct- 
ness which almost reduces the sound of it to 
nothing. When it is emphatically opposed to 
something positive, as, Though he asserts it is so, I 
assart it is not so ; here the word has its genuine 
full sound, rhyming with hot, shot, tot, &c. ; but 
when there is no such opposition in the sense, 
we often hear it dwindle into nut, as, This is a 
hint which I have nut observed in any of our 
writers on this subject. Here we shall find the 
generality of readers lay an accent upon have, 
and pronounce the word not in the obscure 
manner I have been describing; where it may 
be observed, though there ought not to be any 

d 2 



36 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

emphasis on it, as in the former example, it 
should certainly be sounded exactly in the same 
distinct manner in both places. 

That the word not in a simple negative sen- 
tence does not require an accent, but is pro- 
nounced like an unaccented syllable of the word 
that precedes it, may be gathered from the col- 
loquial contraction of the negative phrases, can- 
not, shall not, do not, into ca'n't, sha'n't, don't 
&c. It is true that these contractions ought 
never to appear in print, except in comedies 
and farces, where the language of the lowest 
vulgar is often adopted ; but it is perhaps impos- 
sible to refuse them a place in spoken language, 
where the subject is common and familiar; 
though even here they should be indulged as 
little as possible : but be this as it may, they cer- 
tainly tend to show that a simple negative lays 
no stress on the negation, or custom would ne- 
ver have so much obscured it in the contrac- 
tion. It may be observed in passing, that as 
these contractions have disappeared in print; 
they have been gradually vanishing from polite 
conversation ; and as they ought never to have 
place in public speaking, so those speakers in 
private may be looked upon as the most elegant 
who make the least use of them. 



How to pronounce the Participial Termination 

ING. 

The participial termination ing is frequently 
a cause of embarrassment to readers who have 
a desire to pronounce correctly; nor is it easy 
to solve the difficulty. We are told, even by 
teachers of English, that ing in the words sing- 
ing, blunging, and swinging, must be pronounced 
with the ringing sound which is heard when 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 37 

the accent is on these letters, in words of one 
syllable, as king, sing } and wing, and not as if 
written without the g, as singin, bringin, swing- 
in. No one can be a greater advocate than I am 
for the strictest adherence to orthography, as 
long as the public pronunciation pays the least 
attention to it ; but when, from the nicest ob- 
servation of the best speakers, I find letters given 
up, with respect to sound, I then consider them 
as ciphers. It is from observation I can assert, 
that our best speakers do not invariably pro- 
nounce the participial ing so as to rhyme with 
sing, king, and ring, but sometimes only as the 
preposition in. In the first place, whenever the 
verb ends with ing, as to sing, to bring, or to fling, 
the repetition of the ringing sound in the sylla- 
bles immediately following each other would 
have a very bad effect on the ear, and, instead of 
singing, bringing, or flinging, our best speakers 
universally pronounce them singin, bringin, and 
flingin : for the very same reason, we ought to ad- 
mit the ringing sound when the verb ends with 
in ; for if, instead of sinning, pinning, and begin- 
ning, we should pronounce sinnin, pinnin, and 
beginnin, we should fall into the same disgusting 
repetition as in the former examples. That ing 
should not always have its ringing sound when a 
participial termination, is not very wonderful, 
when we consider how much it is the custom of 
pronunciation to shorten and obscure vowels, 
in final syllables, that arc not under the stress. 
What a trifling omission is the g after n in these 
syllables, to the mutilation of oient in the plurals 
of French verbs into a ! But trifling as it is, it 
savours too much of vulgarity to omit it in any 
words but where the same sound immediately 
precedes, as in singin, bringin, flingin, &c. ; 
without saying any thing of the ambiguity it 



38 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

may possibly form by confounding it with the 
preposition in. Writing, readings and speaking, 
therefore, are certainly preferable to writin, 
readin, and speakin, wherever the language has 
the least degree of precision or solemnity, and 
more particularly in reading or speaking in 
public. 

How to pronounce the word To, when succeeded 
by the Pronoun You. 

I have frequently observed some little em- 
barrassment in readers, when they have met 
with these words without any accentual force 
on them ; as in the phrases, c< I spoke to you 
" about it long ago." — <f He went to you about 
" some important business."— -In these phrases, 
where you is without accent or emphasis, and is 
according to the foregoing rule, pronounced ye, 
we sometimes hear the to sounded as if written 
te ; as, I spoke te ye about it long ago," &c. 
But it may be observed, that though the you 
may very properly in this situation be sounded 
like ye, yet to must always preserve its true 
sound, as if written tzvo, at least when we are 
reading, however it may be suffered to ap- 
proach to te when we are speaking ; for it must 
be ever kept in mind, that there will always be 
a slight difference between easy or cursory con- 
versation, and reading or oratorical speaking ; 
or, in other words, between speaking and 
talking : the one will admit of many con- 
tractions and slightnesses in pronunciation, 
which would be wholly inexcusable in the 
other. Writers on this subject commonly con- 
tent themselves with referring us to the prac- 
tice of the best speakers ; and without all ques- 
tion, this is the principal object of attention ; but 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 39 

with the same advice that others give, I have 
attempted to add a few rules, by way of render- 
ing the advice more useful. 

Having premised these observations on words, 
we shall next proceed to sentences ; as words, 
arranged into sentences, may be properly called 
the subject matter of the Art of Reading. 

Reading defined. Its Relation to Speaking. 

Reading is not ill defined by a late writer on 
the subject, where he calls it artificial speaking*. 
It is an imitative art which has eloquent speak- 
ing for its model, as eloquent speaking is an 
imitation of beautiful nature. Reading, there- 
fore, is to speaking, what a copy 'is to an origi- 
nal picture ; both of them have beautiful nature 
for their object : and as a taste for beautiful na- 
ture can scarcely be better acquired, than by a 
view of the most elegant copies of it, speaking, 
it is presumed, cannot be more successfully 
taught, than by referring us to such rules as 
instruct us in the art of reading. 

The art of reading is that system of rules, 
which teaches us to pronounce written composi- 
tion with justness, energy, variety, and ease. 
Agreeably to this definition, reading may be 
considered as that species of delivery, which not 
only expresses the sense of an author, so as barely 
to be understood, but which, at the same time, 
gives it all that force, beauty, and variety, of 
which it is susceptible : the first of these consi- 
derations belongs to grammar, and the last to 
rhetoric. 

The sense of an author being the first object 
of reading, it will be necessary to inquire into 
those divisions and subdivisions of a sentence, 

* Rice's Introduction to the Art of Reading. 



40 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

which are employed to fix and ascertain its 
meaning : this leads us to a consideration of the 
doctrine of punctuation. 

Punctuation may be considered in two different 
lights, first, as it clears and preserves the sense 
of a sentence, by combining those words together 
that are united in sense, and separating those 
which are distinct; and, secondly, as it directs 
to such pauses, elevations, and depressions, of the 
voice, as not only mark the sense of the sen- 
tence, but give it a variety and beauty which 
recommend it to the ear; for in speaking, as in 
other arts, the useful and the agreeable are 
almost always found to coincide, and every real 
embellishment promotes and perfects the princi- 
pal design. . 

In order, therefore, to have as clear an idea of 
punctuation as possible, it will be necessary to 
consider it as related to grammar and rhetoric 
distinctly. A system of punctuation maybe suf- 
ficient for the purposes of grammar ; or, in other 
words, it may be sufficient to clear and preserve 
the sense of an author, and at the same time be 
but a very imperfect guide to the pronunciation 
of it. The art of speaking, though founded on 
grammar, has principles of its own : principles 
that arise from the nature of the living voice, 
from the perception of harmony in the ear, and 
from a certain superadd ition to the sense of 
language, of which grammar takes no account. 
These principles necessarily influence our pro- 
nunciation, and direct us to pauses, which are 
entirely unknown to every system of punctuation 
in use. 

But though the punctuation in use does not 
answer all the purposes of reading and speaking, 
it must, nevertheless, be allowed to be of consi- 
derable advantage. It does not indeed give us 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 41 

half the pauses which a just pronunciation seems 
to require ; and those pauses it does give are sel- 
dom such as precisely mark the sense of a 
sentence ; but still it directs the eye to intervals 
proper for some pauses, and serves to keep mem- 
bers from running; into each other, and confound- 
ing the sense of the sentence : and if a few simple 
rules*, founded on the nature of a sentence,, were 
adopted by writers and printers, there is not the 
least doubt but the art of reading might be greatly 
facilitated and improved. 

But the business of this essay is not so much 
to construct a new system of punctuation, as to 
endeavour to make the best use of that which is 
already established ; an attempt to reduce the 
whole doctrine of rhetorical punctuation to a 
few plain simple principles, which may enable 
the reader, in some # measure, to point for him- 
self: for this purpose, it will, in the first place, 
be necessary to exhibit a general idea of the 
punctuation in use, that we may be better en- 
abled to see how far it will assist us in the prac- 
tice of pronunciation, and where we must have 
recourse to principles more permanent and syste- 
matical. 

General Idea of the common Doctrine of Punc- 
tuation. 

Dr. Lowtii defines punctuation to be, "the 
" art of marking in writing the several pauses, 
" or rests, between sentences, and the parts of 
" sentences, according to their proper quan- 
" tity or proportion, as they are expressed in a 
" just and accurate pronunciation." Others, as 
Sir James Burrow and Dr. Bowles, beside con- 

* For these Rules, see Elements of Elocution, p. 98. 



The period 
The colon 



42 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

sidering the points as marks of rest and pauses, 
suppose them to be hints for a different accent 
of voice, or rules for regulating the modulation 
of the voice, in reading ; but whether this mo- 
dulation of voice relates to all the points, or to 
the interrogation, exclamation, and parenthesis 
only, we are not informed. Grammarians are 
pretty generally agreed in distinguishing the 
pauses into 

r i > marked thus 

1 he semicolon ( 

The comma J 

and those pauses which are accompanied with an 
alteration in the tone of voice into 

The interrogation ") ( ? 

The exclamation > marked thus -< ! 
The parenthesis J (Q 

The period is supposed to be a pause double the 
time of the colon ; the colon, double that of the 
semicolon ; and the semicolon, double that of the 
comma, or smallest pause ; the interrogation 
and exclamation points are said to be indefinite 
as to their quantity of time, and to mark an ele- 
vation of voice ; and the parenthesis to mark a 
moderate depression of the voice, with a pause 
greater than the comma. 

The Use of the Comma. 

A simple sentence, that is, a sentence having 
but one subject, or nominative, and one finite 
verb, admits of no pause. Thus in the following 
sentence : The passio?i for praise produces excel- 
lent effects in xvomen of sense. The passion for 
praise is the subject, or nominative case, to the 
verb produces, and excellent effects in women of 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 43 

sense is the object or accusative case, with its 
concomitant circumstances or adjuncts of specifi- 
cation, as Dr. Lowth very properly terms them ; 
and this sentence, says the learned bishop, ad- 
mits of no pause between any of its parts, but 
when a new verb is added to the sentence, as in 
the following : The passion for praise, which is so 
very vehement in the fair sex, produces excellent 
effects in xvomen of sense. Here a new verb is 
introduced, accompanied with adjuncts of its 
own, and the subject is repeated by the relative 
pronoun which : it now becomes a compounded 
sentence, made up of two simple sentences, one 
of which is inserted in the middle of the other; 
it must, therefore, be distinguished into its com- 
ponent parts by a point, placed on each side of 
the additional sentence. 

In every sentence, therefore, as many sub- 
jects, or as many finite verbs, as there are, either 
expressed or implied, so many distinctions there 
may be : as, Jlly hopes, fears, joys, pains, all cen- 
tre in you. The case is the same, when several 
adjuncts affect the subject of the verbs : as, A 
good, wise, learned man is an ornament to the com- 
monwealth ; or, when several adverbs, or ad- 
verbial circumstances, affect the verb : as, He 
behaved himself prudently, modestly, virtuously. 
For as many such adjuncts as there are, so many 
several members does the sentence contain ; and 
these are to be distinguished from each other as 
much as several subjects or finite verbs. The 
reason of this is, that as many subjects, finite 
verbs, or adjuncts, as there are in a sentence, so 
many distinct sentences are actually implied; as 
the first example is equivalent to — My hopes all 
centre in you, my fears all centre in you, &c. — 
The second example is equivalent to — A good 
man is an ornament to the commonwealth, a wise 



U RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

man is an ornament to the commonwealth, &c. 
The third example is equivalent to — He behaved 
himself modestly, he behaved himself prudently, 
&c. ; and these implied sentences are all to be 
distinguished by a comma. 

The exception to this rule is, where these sub- 
jects or adjuncts are united by a conjunction : 
as. The imagination and the judgment do not al- 
ways agree ; and A man never becomes learned 
without studying constantly and methodically. In 
these cases the comma between the subjects and 
adjuncts is omitted. 

There are some other kinds of sentences, 
which, though seemingly simple, are neverthe- 
less of the compound kind, and really contain 
several subjects, verbs, or adjuncts. Thus in the 
sentences containing what is called the ablative 
absolute : as, Physicians, the disease once dis- 
covered, think the cure half wrought ; where the 
words, the disease once discovered, are equivalent 
to, when the cause of the disease is discovered. So 
in those sentences, where the nouns are added by 
apposition : as, The Scots, a hardy people, endure 
it all. So also in those, where vocative cases 
occur : as, This, my friend, you must allow me. 
The first of these examples is equivalent to — The 
Scots endured it all, and The Scots, who are a 
hardy people, endured it all; and the last to — 
This you must allow me, and this my friend must 
alloxv me. 



The Use of the Semicolon, Colon, and Period. 

When a sentence can be divided into two or 
more members, which members are again divisi- 
ble into members more simple, the former are to 
be separated by a semicolon. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 45 

EXAMPLE. 

But as this passion for admiration, when it works according 
to reason, improves the beautiful part of our species in every- 
thing that is laudable; so nothing is more destructive to them, 
when it is governed by vanity and folly. 

When a sentence can be divided into two 
parts, each of which parts are again divisible 
by semicolons,, the former are to be separated 
by a colon. 

EXAMPLES. 

As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial- 
plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are only per- 
ceived by the distance gone over. 

Here the two members, being both simple, 
are only separated by a comma. 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not per- 
ceive it moving ; so our advances in learning, as they consist 
of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance 
gone over. 

Here the sentence being divided into two 
equal parts, and those compounded, since they 
include others, we separate the former by a 
semicolon, and the latter by commas, 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, 
but did not perceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass 
has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow : so the advances 
we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, 
are only perceivable by the distance gone over. 

Here the advancement in knowledge is com- 
pared to the motion of a shadow, and the growth 
of grass ; which comparison divides the sen- 
tence into two principal parts: but since what 
is said of the movement of the shadow, and of 
the growth of grass, likewise contains two sim- 
ple members, they are to be separated by a se- 
micolon ; consequently, a higher pointing is re- 
quired, to separate them from the other part of 



46 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the sentence, which they are opposed to : and 
this is a colon. 

When a member of a sentence forms complete 
sense, and does not excite expectation of what 
follows, though it consist but of a simple mem- 
ber, it may be marked with a colon. 

EXAMPLES. 

The discourse consisted of two parts : in the first was 
shown the necessity of fighting; in the second, the advantages 
that would arise from it. 

The Augustan age was so eminent for good poets, that 
they have served as models to all others : yet it did not pro- 
duce any good tragic poets. 

When a sentence is so far perfectly finished, 
as not to be connected in construction with the 
following sentence, it is marked with a period. 

The Interrogation, Exclamation, and Parenthesis. 

The note of interrogation is used to show 
that a question is asked : as, What day of the 
month is this f It likewise distinguishes a ques- 
tion from a sentence in the imperative mood : 
as, Do you return? Interrogative sentences re- 
quire an elevation of the voice, except the ques- 
tion be asked by the pronouns, who, xvhich, xvhat ; 
or the adverbs, how, where, when, &c. ; for in 
these cases you must give a moderate cadence 
to your voice, and let the pause be governed by 
the sense of the subject*. 

* This distinction of the voice, applied to the distinction of 
interrogative sentences, into those that begin with and with- 
out the interrogative words, is extracted from a spelling-book, 
written by Mr. Perry, a very industrious, accurate, and inge- 
nious writer on English pronunciation, at Edinburgh. This 
author, and one Charles Butler, of Magdalen College, Oxford, 
in his English Grammar, 1633, are the only writers in whom 
I ever met with the least hint of this very important distinc- 
tion. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 47 

A parenthesis is a sentence inserted into the 
body of another sentence, to illustrate its mean- 
ing, but is neither necessary to the sense, nor at 
all affects the construction. It marks a moderate 
depression of the voice, with a pause greater than 

a comma. 

EXAMPLE. 

When they were both turned of forty (an age in which, ac- 
cording to Mr. Cowley, there is no dallying with life) they 
determined to retire, and pass the remainder of their days in 
the country. Sped. No. 123. 

An exclamation denotes an emotion of mind, 
and requires an elevation of voice, with a pause 
equivalent either to a comma, colon, semicolon, 
or period, as the sense demands. 

EXAMPLE. 

These are thy glorious works, parent of good ! 

Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, 

Thus wondrous fair ! Thyself how wondrous then ! Milton. 

This is the most concise and comprehensive 
scheme of punctuation I could possibly collect 
from the several authors, who have written on 
this subject; but these rules, though sufficient 
to prevent confusion in writing, are very inade- 
quate to the purposes of a just and accurate pro- 
nunciation : as it is certain that a just, a forcible, 
and easy pronunciation, will oblige a judicious 
reader to pause much more frequently, than the 
most correct and accurate writers or printers 
give him leave. But I must again observe, that 
when I contend for the propriety, and even ne- 
cessity, of pausing, where we find no points in 
writing or printing, I do not mean to disturb the 
present practice of punctuation : I wish only to 
afford such aids to pronunciation as are actually 
made use of by the best readers and speakers, 
and such as we must use in reading and speak- 



48 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ing in public,, if we would wish to pronounce 
with justness, energy, and ease. 

Rhetorical Punctuation. 

Punctuation, or the doctrine of pausing, 
if philosophically considered, will be found to 
extend much further than is generally supposed : 
for if pausing is that resting between words and 
members of sentences, which marks their seve- 
ral degrees of connexion and dependance on 
each other, whatever difference is found in the 
degrees of connexion or dependance, so many 
different marks ought to be adopted to point 
them out. But though the degrees of connexion 
and dependance are confessedly many and va- 
rious, there are no more than four marks by 
which to denote them. It is true, these marks suf- 
ficiently answer the purposes of written language, 
by keeping the members of sentences from run- 
ning into each other, and producing ambiguity : 
but when we regard them as guides to pronun- 
ciation, they fail us at almost every step. Those 
who are acquainted with the Art of Reading 
feel this very sensibly ; and are obliged to supply 
the deficiencies of the points, by pauses which 
are suggested to them by the structure and im- 
port of the sentence. Many hints have been 
offered to assist the reader and speaker in the 
practice of pausing, and more might be given 
by an attentive observer ; but that which ap- 
pears to have been overlooked by all our punc- 
tuists, is, that pausing is often relative : that is, 
that many pauses owe their existence not so 
much to the necessity of distinguishing the sub- 
ordinate parts of a sentence, as to the necessity 
of showing the actual subordination of one mem- 
ber to another; or, in other words, in order 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 49 

to class together such portions of a sentence as 
belong to each other more intimately than those 
that are not so classed. Thus, in the following 
sentence : 

" Half the misery of the greatest part of man- 
" kiud might be extinguished, would men alle- 
ff viate the general curse they lie under by mutual 
" offices of compassion, benevolence, and huma- 
nity/' Spectator, N u 169. 

If we make a pause at misery, and none at 
mankind, we find an improper classification of 
the words ; which is immediately removed either 
by pausing at mankind and not pausing at mise- 
ry ; or by pausing at them both, or by pausing 
at neither. 

Another instance will show us more clearly 
how punctuation depends upon classification, or 
such an association of parts as shows the union 
and distinction of such as are similar and such as 
are different. 

When the proud steed shall know why man restrains 
His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains; 
When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod, 
Why now a victim, and now Egypt's God : 
Then shall man's pride and dulness comprehend 
His actions', passions', being's use and end. 

Popes Essay on Man. 

In the last couplet of this passage, if we pause 
at comprehend 'without pausing at dulness, we shall 
not sufficiently distinguish the subject and the 
verb ; if we place a pause at dulness and not at 
comprehended shall not distinguish the verb from 
that class of words which forms its object; but, if 
we pause both at dulness and comprehend, we 
shall mark both these distinctions, and class all 
the words together, according to their respective 
similarities and differences. 



50 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Pausing, therefore, does not seem to depend so 
much on placing a pause in any particular part of 
a sentence, as in that part which most requires it. 
Thus we may very properly place a pause in the 
middle of a complex nominative case; but if, after 
this, we join the whole nominative to the verb, 
without a pause, we shall soon perceive an im- 
proper classification of words : which proves that 
pausing is relative, and that a pause is proper or 
improper, not absolutely and considered by itself, 
but relatively and as it stands connected with 
other pauses; which can arise from nothing but 
the perception of the impropriety of distinguish- 
ing the parts of a subordinate portion, such as 
those which form the nominative case to the 
verb, and not distinguishing the two superior 
portions; the verb, and the nominative case: 
which is the same absurdity as to distinguish the 
parts of a part, and not the parts of a whole. 
Thus we may distinguish the superior parts with- 
out distinguishing the inferior, but not vice 
versa. 

As this idea of punctuation is at least new and 
curious, it may deserve a little further illustration. 

" As this cruel practice of party lying tends to 
" the utter subversion of all truth and humanity 
" among us, it deserves the utmost detestation 
" and discouragement of all who have either the 
" love of their country, or the honour of their 
" religion at heart." Spectator, N° 451. 

This sentence has but two commas in it, as it 
lies in the Spectator before me : but who is there 
of the least discernment who does not perceive 
a great number of other pauses which might be 
adopted for the purpose of more distinctly con- 
veying the sense ? In the first place, the com- 
pound nominative contains a class of words end- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 1 1 

ing at lying, which are united as forming the 
subject of the verb, tends ; which may be very 
properly distinguished from the next class of 
words which form the object of the verb ; and 
as this object is compounded of two subordinate 
classes, namely : the utter subversion, and of all 
truth and humanity among ns ; we may pause 
better at subversion than in any other part of this 
clause; and as the next principal constructive 
member has for its nominative a single word, and 
that only a personal pronoun, it admits of no 
pause after it : but the regimen of the succeeding 
verb, consisting of several classes of words, re- 
quires a pause after the verb, to distinguish it 
from the regimen, and a pause at discouragement, 
to distinguish the class which forms the former 
part of the regimen from the latter ; and a pause 
at all, to distinguish the persons understood by 
this word and the next member which describes 
them; and this last descriptive member, beginning 
with the nominative who, and the verb have, be- 
ing followed by another compound member con- 
sisting of two parts, which form the regimen of 
the verb, must have a pause at have, and another 
at country, in order to distinguish the verb from 
the regimen, and the parts of the regimen from 
each other. 

It must not be understood that I recommend 
all these pauses as necessary. Certainly not. 
What I wish to inculcate is, that, if we pause 
oftener than the common punctuation sets down 
for us, our pauses ought to take place in those 
parts of the sentence where the words naturally 
fall into classes ; and that if we pause at a subor- 
dinate class of words, we must necessarily pause 
at a superior class, otherwise we shall produce 
disorder and confusion in the thought. 

It may perhaps be objected to this system, 
E 2 



52 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

that there are some classes of words which can- 
not he separated from other classes without a 
manifest impropriety. Thus, in the following 
sentence from Mr. Addison : 

" I consider a human soul without education 
" like marble in the quarry ; which shows none 
" of its inherent beauties till the skill of the po- 
" lisher fetches out the colours, makes the sur- 
" face shine, and discovers every ornamental 
" cloud spot and vein that runs through the 
« body of it." Sped. N° 215. 

Here it may be said,, that cloud, spot, and vein, 
form a class, and ought, therefore, to be dis- 
tinguished from ornamental by a pause between 
that word and cloud, as well as between cloud 
and the two following words. To this objec- 
tion it may be answered, that if we consider the 
word ornamental as an adjective qualifying only 
the word cloud, the words every ornamental 
cloud may be considered only as one object, as 
the words every ornamental are only like an ad- 
jective before the substantive which refuses a 
pause (See Elements of Elocution, p. 23). 
But if we consider every ornamental to qualify 
spot and vein as well as cloud, and only omitted 
for the sake of brevity, these words do not so 
much form one distinct class, as three distinct 
classes formiug altogether one compound class, 
governed by the verb discovers. Here, too, we 
may perceive the general rule takes place which 
forbids a pause between the adjective and the 
substantive in the natural order, and which 
makes it improper to pause at ornamental. But 
if we suppose this word ellipticaily omitted be- 
fore spot, another general rule obliges us to pause 
after cloud, that the mind may supply the word 
ornamental ; for nothing can be more uniform in 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 53 

correct pronunciation, than the rule that enjoins 
us to make a pause wherever there is an ellipsis 
in the language. 

This appears to be the true rationale of Punc- 
tuation ; and, with this principle in view, we shall 
be enabled to enter into a detail of those rules 
which are commonly laid down in our gram- 
mars, to judge of the justness of them, and to 
add such others as none of our punctuists have 
taken notice of. 

But, first, it will be necessary to make a dis- 
tinction of punctuation, which will sound new 
to every one, and that is into visible and audi- 
ble. Visible Punctuation is that which sepa- 
rates a sentence into its several parts, and shows 
the degree of separation that exists by the time 
of the pause between the several parts ; and 
Audible Punctuation annexes to these pauses 
such a turn or elevation and depression of the 
voice as the sense and structure of the sentence 
seem to require. Of both these in their order. 



A Practical System of Rhetorical Punctuation. 

Of Visible Punctuation. 

Before we give such directions for pausing, 
or dividing a sentence, as will in some mea- 
sure enable us to avoid the errors of common 
punctuation, it will be necessary to inquire into 
the nature of a sentence, and to distinguish it 
into its different kinds. Sentences are of two 
kinds : a period, or compact sentence, and a 
loose sentence. A period, or compact sentence, 
is an assemblage of such words, or members, as 
do not form sense independent of each other; 
or, if they do, the former modify the latter, or 



54 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

inversely. A loose sentence is an assemblage 
of such words, or members, as do form sense, 
independent of those that follow, and at the 
same time are not modified by them: a period, 
or compact sentence, therefore, is divisible into 
two kinds ; the first, where the former words 
and members depend for sense on the latter,, as 
in the following sentence : As we cannot discern 
the shadow moving along the dial-plat e 9 so the ad- 
vances we make in learning are only perceived by 
the distance gone over. Here we find no sense 
formed till the last word is pronounced ; and 
this sentence, for distinction's sake, we may call 
a direct period : the second kind of period, or 
compact sentence., is that, where, though the 
first part forms sense without the latter, it is ne- 
vertheless modified by it; as in the following 
sentence: There are several arts, which all men are 
in some measure masters of, without being at the 
pains of learning them. Here, if we stop at ma- 
sters of we find complete sense formed, but not 
the whole sense ; because what follows modi- 
fies or alters the meaning of it : for it is not said 
simply, that there are several arts, which all men 
are in some measure masters of, but with this 
qualification or change in the sense, without be- 
ing at the pains of learning them, which reduces 
the general to a particular meaning; and this 
sentence we may call an inverted period. The 
loose sentence has its first members forming 
sense, without being modified by the latter; as 
in the following sentence : Persons of good taste 
expect to be pleased at the same time they are in- 
formed; and think that the best sense always de- 
serves the best language. In which example we 
find the latter member adding something to the 
former, but not modifying or altering it. 

This difference of connexion between the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 55 

members of sentences, and consequently the dif- 
ferent pauses to be annexed to them, will be 
better understood by attending to the different 
influence of the conjunction that and the rela- 
tive which in the following passage : 

A man should endeavour to make the sphere of his innocent 
pleasures as wide as possible, that he may retire into them with 
safety, and find in them such a satisfaction as a wise man would 
not blush to take. Of this nature are those of the imagination, 
which do not require such a bent of thought as is necessary to 
our most serious employments, nor at the same time suffer the 
mind to sink into that negligence and remissness, which are apt 
to accompany our more sensual delights. Spectator , No. 411. 

In the first of these sentences we find the con- 
junction that modifies or restrains the meaning 
of the preceding member; for it is not asserted 
in general, and without limitation, that a man 
should make the sphere of his innocent plea- 
sures as wide as possible, but that he should do 
so for the purpose of retiring into himself; these 
two members, therefore, are necessarily con- 
nected, and might have formed a period, or 
compact sentence, had they not been followed 
by the last member : but as that only adds to the 
sense of the preceding members, and does not 
qualify them, the whole assemblage of mem- 
bers, taken together, forms but one loose sen- 
tence. 

The last member of the last sentence is ne- 
cessarily connected with what precedes, because 
it modifies or restrains the meaning of it; for it 
is not meant, that the pleasures of the imagina 
tion do not suffer the mind to sink into negli- 
gence and remissness in general, but into that 
particular negligence and remissness which is 
apt to accompany our more sensual delights. 
The first member of this sentence affords an op- 
portunity of explaining this by its opposite : for 
here it is not meant, that those pleasures of the 



56 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

imagination, only are of this innocent nature 
which do not require such a bent of thought as 
is necessary to our more serious employments; 
but that of this nature are the pleasures of the 
imagination in general ; and it is by asking the 
question, whether a preceding member affirms 
any thing in general, or only affirms something 
as limited or qualified by what follows, that we 
shall discover whether these members are either 
immediately or remotely connected ; and, con- 
sequently, whether they form a loose or a com- 
pact sentence : as the former member, therefore, 
of the last sentence is not necessarily connected 
with those that succeed, the sentence may be 
pronounced to be a loose sentence. 

Sentences thus defined and distinguished into 
their several kinds, we shall be better enabled 
to give such rules for dividing them by pauses, 
as will reduce punctuation to some rational and 
steady principles. Previously, however, to these 
rules, it will be necessary to observe, that, as the 
times of the pauses are exceedingly indefinite, 
the fewer distinctions we make between them, 
the less we shall embarrass the reader ; — I shall 
beg leave, therefore, to reduce the number of 
pauses to three : namely, the smaller pause, an- 
swering to the comma ; the greater pause, an- 
swering to the semicolon, and colon ; and the 
greatest pause, answering to the period. The 
ancients knew nothing of the semicolon ; and if 
we consider practice, and real utility, I believe 
it will be found, that the three distinctions of 
the ancients answer every useful purpose in 
writing and reading. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 57 

Rules. for Pausing. 

The principal Pause in the compact Sentence. 

Rule I. Every direct period consists of two 
principal constructive parts, between which 
parts the greater pause must be inserted : when 
these parts commence with conjunctions that 
correspond with each other, they are sufficiently 
distinguishable; as in the following* sentence: 

As no faculty of the mind is capable of more improvement 
than the memory, so none is in more danger of decay by disuse. 

Here we may observe, that the first construc- 
tive part begins with as, and the second with so ; 
the expectation is excited by the first, and an- 
swered by the latter : at that point, therefore, 
where the expectation begins to be answered, 
and the sense begins to form, the principal pause 
is to be used; and, by these means, the two 
contrasted and correspondent parts are distinctly 
viewed by the mind. 

A period may be direct, and may be properly 
called a compact sentence, where only the first 
conjunction is expressed. 

EXAMPLE. 
As in my speculations I have endeavoured to extinguish 
passion and prejudice, I am still desirous of doing some good 
in this particular. Spectator. 

Here the word so is understood before I am, 
and the long pause as much required, as if so 
had been expressed ; since it is here the sen- 
tence naturally divides into two correspondent, 
and dependent parts. 

That point, therefore, where the sense begins 
to form, or where the expectation begins to be 



58 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

answered, is the point which we must be the 
most careful to mark ; as it is here the sentence 
naturally divides into its principal constructive 
parts, and it is here that in every sentence and 
member of a sentence the principal pause takes 
place. 

Rule II. Every inverted period consists of 
two principal constructive parts, between which 
parts the greater pause must be inserted ; these 
parts divide at that point where the latter part 
of the sentence begins to modify the former : in 
periods of this kind, the latter conjunction only 
is expressed, as in the example : Every one that 
speaks and reasons is a grammarian, and a logi- 
cian, though he may be utterly unacquainted with 
the rules of grammar, or logic, as they are deli- 
vered in books and systems. If we invert this 
period, we shall find it susceptible of the two 
correspondent conjunctions though and yet ; as, 
Though utterly unacquainted zvitk the rules of 
grammar and logic, as delivered in books and sys^ 
terns, yet every man xvho speaks and reasons is a 
grammarian and a logician. This inversion of the 
order of a sentence, is perhaps, the best crite- 
rion of the connexion of its parts; and proves 
that the former, though forming complete sense 
of itself, is modified by the latter. Thus, in the 
phrases, Christ died for him, because he died for 
all. — Many things are believed, though they ex- 
ceed the capacity of our wits. Hooker. 

In these phrases, if we do but transpose the 
noun and pronoun, and invert the order, the 
sentences will be perfectly the same in sense, 
and the connexion will be more apparent ; as, 
Because Christ died for all, he died for him. — 
Though many things exceed the capacity of our 
wits, they are believed. 

Wherever, therefore, this transposition can 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 59 

take place, we may be certain of a necessary 
connexion in the sense, and that the principal 
pause lies between the two parts. 



The Principal Pause in the loose Sentence. 

Rule III. Every loose sentence must consist 
of a period, either direct or inverted, and an ad- 
ditional member which does not modify it ; and, 
consequently, this species of sentence requires a 
pause between the principal constructive parts 
of the period, and between the period and the 
additional men/ er. 

EXAMPLE. 

Persons of good taste expect to be pleased, at the same time 
they are informed; and think that the best sense always 
deserves the best language. 

In this sentence an inverted period is con- 
structed at the word informed; which requires a 
pause at pleased, because here the former part 
of the sentence is modified by the latter ; and a 
pause is required at informed, because here an- 
other member commences. Let us take another 
example. 

The soul, considered abstractedly from its passions, is of a re- 
miss and sedentary nature ; slow in its resolves, and languishing 
in its executions. Spectator, No. 255. 

Here a direct period is formed, at nature^ the 
principal constructive parts of this period sepa- 
rate at passions ; and here must be the larger 
pause : the succeeding members are only addi- 
tional, and require a larger pause between them 
and the period they belong to, and a smaller 
pause between each other at resolves* 



60 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



The subordinate Pause in the compact Sentence. 

Having given an idea of the principal* pause 
in a sentence, it will be necessary to say some- 
thing of the subordinate pauses, which may all 
be comprehended under what is called the short 
pause. 

And first it may be observed, that by the long 
pause is not meant a pause of any determinate 
length, but the longest pause in the sentence. 
Thus, the pause between the nominative and the 
verb in the following sentence : 

The great and invincible Alexander, w£pt for the fate of 
Darius. 

The pause here, I say, may be called the long 
pause, though not half so long as the pause be- 
tween the two principal constructive parts in the 
following sentence : 

If impudence prevailed as much in the Forum and courts of 
justice, as insolence does in the country and places of less 
resort; Aulus Coecina would submit as much to the impu- 
dence of Sextus iEbutius in this cause, as he did before to 
his insolence when assaulted by him. 

Here the pause between the words resort and 
Aulus Ccecina may be called the long pause, not 
so much from its duration, as from its being the 
principal pause in the sentence : the long pause, 
therefore, must always be understood relatively 
to the smaller pauses : and it may pass for a good 
general rule, that the principal pause is longer, 
or shorter, according to the simplicity or com- 
plexity of the sentence. See page 45. 

Rule IV. The subordinate pauses are easily 
distinguished in such sentences as consist of 
parts corresponding to parts, as in the last ex- 
ample ; where we may observe, that the whole 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 6 1 

sentence readily divides itself into two principal 
constructive parts at resort : the first part as 
readily divides into two subordinate parts atjws- 
tice ; and the last, into two other subordinate 
parts at cause ; and these are all the pauses ne- 
cessary. But if, either from the necessity of 
drawing breath, or of more strongly enforcing 
every part of this sentence, we are to admit of 
more pauses than these, it cannot be denied, 
that, for this purpose, some places more readily 
admit of a pause than others : if, for instance, 
the first subordinate part were to admit of two 
pauses, they could no where be so suitably placed 
as at impudence and Forum ; if the next might 
be overpointed in the same manner, the points 
would be less unsuitable at does and country than 
at any other words ; in the same manner, a pause 
might be more tolerable at Ccccina and jEbutius, 
and at before and insolence, than in any other 
of the subordinate parts of the latter division of 
this sentence. 

The parts of loose sentences which admit of 
the short pause must be determined by the 
same principles. If this sentence has been pro- 
perly defined, it is a sentence consisting of a, 
clause containing perfect sense, followed by an 
additional clause which does not modify it. 
Thus, in the following example : 

Foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost, 
than what they possess ; and to turn their eyes on those who 
are richer than themselves, rather than on those who are 
under greater difficulties. 

Here a perfect sentence is formed at possess , 
and here must be the longest pause, as it inter- 
venes between two parts, nearly independent : 
the principal pause in the first member of this 
sentence, which, respecting the whole sentence, 
may be called a subordinate pause, is at lost, 



62 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and that of the last member at themselves; if, 
for the sake of precision, other and shorter pauses 
were admitted, it should seem most suitable to 
admit them at men and consider in the first mem- 
ber, at eyes and those in the first part of the se- 
cond member, and at those in the last. In these 
observations, however, it must be carefully un- 
derstood, that this multiplicity of shorter pauses 
is not recommended as necessary or proper, but 
only as possible, and to be admitted occasionally: 
and to draw the line as much as possible between 
what is necessary and unnecessary, we shall en- 
deavour to bring together such particular cases 
as demand the short pause, and those where it 
cannot be omitted without hurting either the 
sense or the delivery. 

Rule V. When a nominative consists of more 
than one word, it is necessary to pause after it. 

When a nominative and a verb come in a sen- 
tence, unattended by adjuncts, no pause is ne- 
cessary, either for the ear or understanding; thus 
in the following sentence : Alexander xvept: — no 
pause intervenes between these words, because 
they convey only two ideas, which are appre- 
hended the moment they are pronounced ; but 
if these words are amplified by adjuncts of spe- 
cification, as in the following sentence : The 
great and invincible Alexander, xvept for the fate 
of Darius. Here a pause is necessary between 
these words, not only that the-organs may pro- 
nounce the whole with more ease, but that the 
complex nominative and verb may, by being se- 
parately and distinctly exhibited, be more readily 
and distinctly conceived # . 

* It is not a little astonishing that so acute a grammarian 
as Beauzee should make the propriety of a pause in this case 
depend, not on the necessity of distinguishing parts more or 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 63 

This rule is so far from being unnecessary, 
when we are obliged to pause after the verb, 
that it then becomes more essential. 



EXAMPLE. 

This account of party patches will, I am afraid, appear im- 
probable to those who live at a distance from the fashionable 
world. Addison's Sped. N°81. 

If in this sentence we only pause at will, as 
marked by the printer, we shall find the verb 
swallowed up as it were by the nominative case, 
and confounded with it ; but if we make a short 
pause, both before and after it, we shall find 
every part of the sentence obvious and distinct. 

That the nominative is more separable from 
the verb than the verb from the objective case, 
is plain from the propriety of pausing at self- 
love, and not at forsook, in the following ex- 
ample : 

less connected, but on the necessity of breathing. If the 
sense is impaired by a pause, a pause is absolutely inadmissi- 
ble in the longest as well as the shortest sentence ; but if a 
pause between the nominative and verb, where the nomina- 
tive consists of many words, does not injure the sense, but 
rather clears and strengthens it, we may safely pronounce 
that a pause between every complex nominative and verb is 
not only admissible but necessary. 

His examples of sentences where we may pause, and where 
we may not, are the following : 

L'homme injuste ne voit la mort que comme un fanlorne 
qffreux. Theor. des Sent. chap. 14. 

La venue des faux Christ s, et des faux prophetes, sembloit 
etre un plus prochain acheminement a la dernierc ruine. Bos- 
suet Disc, sur l'Hist. Univ. P. II. 

But if the foregoing observations are just, a pause in speak- 
ing is quite as admissible at injuste as at prophetes : for, to use 
his own words — C'est une erreur sensible, de faire de pendre le 
degre d'affinite de phrases de leur plus ou moins d'et endue ; un 
atome tient aussi peu ii un autre atome quune montagne d une 
montagne. Gram. Generale, vol. ii. p. 592. 



/ 



64 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Self-love forsook the path it first pursued, 
And found the private in the public good. 

Pope's Essay on Mart. 

The same may be observed of the last line of 
the following couplet: 

Earth smiles around with boundless bounty blest, 

And Heav'n beholds its image in his breast. Ibid, 

In these instances, though the melody invites to 
a pause at forsook and beholds, propriety requires 
it at self -love and Heaven. 

Rule VI. Whatever member intervenes be- 
tween the nominative case and the verb is of the 
nature of a parenthesis, and must be separated 
from both of them by a short pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

I am told that many virtuous matrons, who formerly have 
been taught to believe that this artificial spotting of a face was 
unlawful, are now reconciled, by a zeal for their cause, to 
what they could not be prompted by a concern for their 
beauty. " Addison's Sped. N° 81. 

The member intervening between the nominative 
matrons and the verb are, may be considered as 
incidental, and must therefore be separated from 
both. 

When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and just upon 
the point of giving battle, the women, who were allied to both 
of them, interposed with so many tears and entreaties, that 
they prevented the mutual slaughter which threatened both 
parties, and united them together in a firm and lasting peace. 

Addison's Spect. N° 81. 

Here the member intervening between the 
nominative case women, and the verb interposed, 
must be separated from both by a short pause. 

Rule VII. Whatever member intervenes be- 
tween the verb and the accusative case, is of the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 65 

nature of a parenthesis, and must be separated 
from both by sl short pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

I knew a person who possessed the faculty of distinguishing 
flavours in so great a perfection, that, after having tasted ten 
different kinds of tea, he would distinguish, without seeing 
the colour of it, the particular sort which was offered him. 

Addison's Spcct. N° 409. 

The member intervening between the verb 
distinguish, and the accusative the particular sort, 
must be separated from them by a short pause. 

A man of a fine taste in writing will discern, after the same 
manner, not only the general beauties and imperfections of an 
author, but discover the several ways of thinking and express- 
ing himself, which diversify him from all other authors. 

Jlddison, Ibid. 

The member intervening between the verb 
discern, and the accusative not only the general 
beauties and imperfections of an author, must be 
separated from both by a short pause. 

Rule VIII. Whatever words are put into the 
case absolute, must be separated from the rest by 
a pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

If a man borrow ought of his neighbour, and it be hurt or 
die, the owner thereof not being with it, he shall surely make 
it good. 

Here, the owner thereof not being with it, is 
the phrase called the ablative absolute, and this, 
like a parenthesis, must be separated from the 
rest of the sentence by a short pause on each 
side. 

God, from the mount of Sinai, whose gray top 
Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 
In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets sound, 
Ordain them laws. Milton 

Here, he descending, neither governs, nor is 

F 



66 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

governed by any other part of the sentence, and 
is said to be in the ablative absolute ; and this 
independence must be marked by a short pause 
before and after the phrase. 

Rule IX. If an abverb is placed after the 
verb, and consists but of one word, it must be 
separated from what follows by a pause. 

EXAMPLE. 

He did not act 'prudently in one of the most important affairs 
of his life, and therefore could not expect to be happy. 

Rule X. If the adverb consists of more words 
than one, or forms what is called an adverbial 
phrase, it ought to be separated both from the 
verb and what follows by a pause. 

EXAMPLE. 

Thus man is, by nature, directed to correct, in some mea- 
sure, that distribution of things, which she herself would other- 
wise have made. S?nith's Theory of Moral Sentiments* 

Rule XI. Words or phrases in apposition, 
or when the latter only explains the former, have 
a short pause between them. 

EXAMPLE. 

'Goddess of the lyre, 



Which rules the accents of the moving spheres, 
Wilt thou, eternal Harmony, descend 
And join this festive train ? 

Rule XII. When two substantives come to- 
gether, and the latter, which is in the genitive 
case, consists of several words closely united with 
each other, a pause is admissible between the 
two principal substantives. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 67 



EXAMPLES. 

We may observe, that any single circumstance of what 
we have formerly seen often raises up a whole scene of ima- 
gery, and awakens numberless ideas that before slept in the 
imagination. Spectator, N°417. 

I do not know whether I am singular in my opinion, but for 
my own part I would rather look upon a tree in all its luxu- 
riancy, and diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is 
cut and trimmed into a mathematical figure. lb. N° 4?15. 

Correct reading would admit of a pause in the 
first example at circumstance, and, in the last, 
rather at diffusion than at luxuriancy. 

Rule XIII. Who and which, when relative 
pronouns, and that, when it stands for who and 
which, always admit of a pause before them. 

EXAMPLES. 

A man can never be obliged to submit to any power, 
unless he can be satisfied, who is the person, who has a 
right to exercise it. Locke, 

To which we may add, their want of judging abilities, and 
also their want of opportunity to apply such a serious consi- 
deration as may let them into the true goodness and evil of 
things, which are qualities, which seldom display themselves 
to the first view. South, 

Vanity is the foundation of the most ridiculous and con- 
temptible vices, the vices of affectation and common lying ; 
follies which, if experience did not teach us how common 
they are, one should imagine the least spark of common sense 
would save us from. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments* 

The word which, in the last example, that 
ought to have a pause before it, has one after 
it ; this latter pause is certainly proper, as a 
member intervenes between which and the go- 
verning words, and printers never fail placing 
this last pause, but almost as uniformly neglect 
a pause before the relative in this situation, 
though the pause before will be acknowledged 

f 2 



68 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

by every judicious ear to be as necessary in tbe 
one case as in tbe other. A pause before these 
relatives ought never to be omitted, as we are 
certain by this pause never to hurt the sense, 
and are sure to gain time, breath, and foresight 
to proceed. The uncertainty of printers in this 
essential pause may be guessed at, from the 
punctuation of a passage, which follows that, 
which I have just quoted. 

The foolish liar, who endeavours to excite the admiration 
of the company by the relation of adventures which never had 
any existence, the important coxcomb, who gives himself airs 
of rank and distinction which he well knows he has no just 
pretensions to, are both of them no doubt pleased with the 
applause which they fancy they meet with. lb. p. 192. 

In this passage we only see a pause before the 
first relative ; but why that is distinguished it is 
not very easy to guess. 

This rule is of greater extent than at first ap- 
pears ; for there are several words usually called 
adverbs, which include in them the power of the 
relative pronoun*, and will therefore admit of a 
pause before them : sucb as when, why, where- 
fore, how, where, whither, whether, whence, while, 
till, or until: for when is equivalent to the time 
at which ; why or wherefore is equivalent to the 
reason for ivhich ; and so of the rest. It must 
however, be noted, that when a preposition comes 
before one of these relatives, the pause is before 
the preposition ; and that, if any of these words 
arc the last word of the sentence, or clause of a 
sentence, no pause is admitted before them ; as, 
/ have read the book, of which I have heard so 
much commendation, but I know not the reason 
why* 1 have heard one of the books much com- 
mended, but I cannot tell which, &c. 

* See Ward's English Grammar, 4to. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 69 

It must likewise be observed, that, if the sub- 
stantive which governs the relative, and makes 
it assume the genitive case, comes before it, no 
pause is to be placed either before which, or the 
preposition that governs it. 

EXAMPLE. 

The passage of the Jordan is a figure of baptism, by the 
grace of which, the new-born Christian passes from the slavery 
of sin into a state of freedom peculiar to the chosen sons of 
God. Abridgment of the Bible. 

Rule XIV. When that is used as a causal 
conjunction, it ought always to be preceded by 
a short pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

The custom and familiarity of these tongues do sometimes 
so far influence the expressions in these epistles, that one may 
observe the force of the Hebrew conjugations. Locke, 

There is the greater necessity for attending to 
this rule, as we so frequently find it neglected 
in printing. For fear of crowding the line with 
points, and appearing to clog the sense to the 
eye, the ear is often defrauded of her unques- 
tionable rights. I shall give two instances, 
among a thousand, that might be brought to 
show where this is the case. 

I must therefore desire the reader to remember that, by the 
pleasures of the imagination, I mean only such pleasures as 
arise originally from sight. Sped. N° 411. 

It is true, the higher nature still advances, and by that 
means preserves his distance and superiority in the scale of 
being; but he knows that, how high soever the station is of 
which he stands possessed at present, the inferior nature will 
at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree 
of glory. Sped. N° 111. 

In these examples, we find the incidental 
member succeeding the conjunction that is se- 
parated from it by a pause ; but the pause, which 



70 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ought to precede this conjunction, is omitted: 
this punctuation runs through our whole typo- 
graphy, and is the more culpable, as the inser- 
tion of the pause after that, where it is less 
wanted than before, is more apt to mislead the 
reader than if he saw no pause at all. 

Rule XV. When the adjective follows the 
substantive, and is succeeded either by another 
adjective, or words equivalent to it, which form 
what may be called a descriptive phrase, it must 
be separated from the substantive by a short 
pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

He was a man, learned and polite. 
It is a book, exquisite in its kind. 
It was a calculation, accurate to the last degree. 

That no pause is to be admitted between the 
substantive and the adjective, in the inverted 
order, when the adjective is single, or unaccom- 
panied by adjuncts, is evident by the following 
example from Pope : 

Of these the chief the care of nations own, 
And guard with arms divine the British throne. 

For the reason of this, see Elements of Elocu- 
tion, p. 23. 

Those who have not considered this subject 
very attentively, will, I doubt not, imagine, that 
I have inserted above twice the number of points 
that are necessary ; but those who are better ac- 
quainted with the art, will, I flatter myself, 
agree with me that a distinct, a deliberate, and 
easy pronunciation, will find employment for 
every one of them. Much undoubtedly will de- 
pend upon the turn of voice, with which we 
accompany these points; and, if this is but pro- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 71 

perly adapted, the sense will be so far from suf- 
fering by so many pauses, that it will be greatly 
improved and enforced. And this leads us to a 
consideration of one of the most important parts 
of delivery; which is, the slide or inflection of 
voice, with which every sentence, member of a 
sentence, and even every word, is necessarily 
pronounced ; without a knowledge of this it will 
be impossible to speak intelligibly of the interro- 
gation., exclamation, and parenthesis, which seem 
distinguished from other sentences more by a pe- 
culiar inflection of voice, than by pausing ; nor 
can accent and emphasis be completely under- 
stood without considering them as connected 
with a certain turn or inflection of voice ; and 
this must be the next object of our inquiry. 

Audible Punctuation. 

As describing such sounds upon paper as have 
no definite terms appropriated to them like those 
of music, is a new and difficult task, the reader 
must be requested to as nice an attention as pos- 
sible to those sounds or inflections of voice, 
which spontaneously annex themselves to certain 
forms of speech, and which, from their familia- 
rity, are apt to be unnoticed. If experience 
were out of the question, and we were only 
acquainted with the organic formation of human 
sounds, we must necessarily distinguish them 
into five kinds : namely, The monotone, or one 
sound, continuing a perceptible time in one 
note, which is the case with all musical sounds ; 
a sound beginning low and sliding higher with- 
out any perceptible intervals, or beginning high 
and sliding lower in the same manner ; which is 
essential to all speaking sounds : the two last of 
these may be called simple slides or inflections ; 



72 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and these may be so combined as to begin with 
that which rises and end with that which falls, 
or to begin with that which falls and end with 
that which rises ; and if this combination of in- 
flection is pronounced with one impulse or ex- 
plosion of the voice, it may not improperly be 
called the circumflex or compound inflection : 
and these are the only possible modifications the 
human voice is susceptible of. For first, if there 
is no turn of voice, it must continue in a mono- 
tone ; secondly, if the voice be inflected, it 
must be either upwards or downwards, and so 
produce either the rising or falling inflection ; 
thirdly, if these two be united on the same syl- 
lable, it can only be by beginning with the 
rising and ending with the falling inflection, or 
vice versa ; as any other mixture of these oppo- 
site inflections is impossible. 

A writer*, who seems to have taken up two of 
the distinctions of voice I have been describing, 
tells us, that the two inflections of voice, which 
accompany the pauses are, that which conveys 
the idea of continuation, and that which conveys 
the idea of completion ; but nothing can be less 
satisfactory than this account of the use of these 
inflections ; for the first, which is said to imply 
continuation, ought always to be used at the end 
of an interrogative sentence beginning with 
the verb, and almost always at the end of a sen- 
tence which terminates with a negative mem- 
ber, as is abundantly shown in Elements of Elo- 
cution, page 219, 220, &c. ; and for the second, 
which is said to imply completion, we find it 
so often introduced where the sense is incom- 
plete ; particularly in the series, which see here- 

* Enfield's Speaker, page xxvi. See also Preface to 
Elements of Elocution, page viii, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 73 

after, and in those sentences where we enforce a 
concession in order to strengthen the conclu- 
sion, and in a thousand instances where em- 
phasis occurs, that scarcely any thing can be 
more vague and uncertain than the rule laid 
down by this author. 

The truth is, nothing will enable us to adapt 
these inflexions properly, but distinguishing 
sentences into their various kinds, and consi- 
dering nicely the structure and meaning of these 
sentences, and the several distinctions to which 
these modifications of voice are liable ; which is 
too delicate as well as too laborious a task for 
the generality of writers, and therefore it is no 
wonder we find such superficial directions as 
the bulk of our treatises on this subject abound 
in. I flatter myself I have led the way in this 
laborious task, in Elements of Elocution, to 
which the curious reader must be referred for 
full satisfaction. In the present work I purpose 
to confine myself to what may be considered as 
more immediately necessary to practice ; for 
which purpose, after explaining these turns of 
voice to the ear as accurately as possible, I shall 
endeavour to assist the ear by the eye, in com- 
prehending the several modifications of voice, 
and then attempt to apply them to the several 
sentences and parts of sentences according to 
their different structure and meaning. 

Explanation of the Inflexions of the Voice. 

Though we seldom hear such a variety in 
reading or speaking as the sense and the satis- 
faction of the ear demand, yet we hardly ever 
hear a pronunciation perfectly monotonous. In 
former times we might have found it in the mid- 
night pronunciation of the bell-man's verses 



n RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

at Christmas; and now., the town-cryer, as 
Shakspeare calls him, sometimes gives us a 
specimen of the monotonous in his vociferous 
exordium " This is to give notice ! " — the clerk of 
a court of justice also promulgates the will of 
the court by that barbarous metamorphosis of 
Oyezl Oyez! Hear ye! Hear ye! into O yes! 
O yes! in a perfect sameness of voice. But, 
however ridiculous the monotone in speaking 
may be in the above-mentioned characters, in 
certain solemn and sublime passages in poetry 
it has a wonderful force and dignity ; and, by 
the uncommonness of its use, it even adds great- 
ly to that variety with which the ear is so much 
delighted. 

This monotone may be defined to be a con- 
tinuation or sameness of sound upon certain 
syllables of a word, exactly like that produced 
by repeatedly striking a bell; — such a stroke may 
be louder or softer, but continues exactly in the 
same pitch. To express this tone upon paper, 
a horizontal line may be adopted ; such a one 
as is generally used to express a long syllable in 
verse ; thus ("). 

The grand description of the riches of Satan's 
throne, in the beginning of Milton's second 
book of the Paradise Lost, affords us an oppor- 
tunity of exemplifying the use of this tone: 

High on a throne of royal state, which far 
Outshone the wealth of Ormus or of Inde ; 
Or where the gorgeous East, with richest hand, 
Show'rs, on her kings barbaric, pearl and gold, 
Satan exalted sat. 

The rising inflexion is that upward turn of 
the voice we generally use at the comma, or in 
asking a question beginning with a verb : as, 
No, say you ; did he say No ? This is commonly 
called a suspension of voice, and may not 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 75 

improperly be marked by (be acute accent 
thus('). 

The falling inflexion is generally used at the 
semicolon and colon ; and must necessarily 
be heard in answer to the former question. He 
did ; he said Nb. This inflexion, in a lower tone 
of voice, is adopted at the end of almost every 
sentence, except the definite question, or 
that which begins with the verb. To express 
this inflexion the grave accent seems adapted : 
thus f). 

The rising circumflex begins with the fall- 
ing inflexion, and ends with the rising upon the 
same syllable, and seems as it were to twist the 
voice upwards. This inflexion may be exem- 
plified by the drawling tone we give to some 
words spoken ironically ; as the word Clodius, 
in Cicero's Oration for Milo. This turn of the 
voice is marked in this manner ( v ). 

But it is foolish in us to compare Drusus, Africanus, and 
ourselves, with Clodius; all our other calamities were tole- 
rable, but no one can patiently bear the death of Clodius. 

The falling circumflex begins with the rising 
inflexion, and ends with the falling upon the 
same syllable, and seems to twist the voice 
downwards. This inflexion is generally used to 
express reproach ; and may be exemplified by 
the drawling tone we hear on the word you, in 
Hamlet's answer to his mother, who says — 

Queen. Hamlet, you have your father much offended. 
Hamlet, Madam, you have my father much offended. 

This turn of the voice may be marked by the 
common circumflex : thus ( A ). 

Both these circumflex inflexions may be ex- 
emplified in the word so, in a speech of the 
Clown in Shakspeare's As You Like It. 



76 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

I knew when seven justices could not make up a quarrel ; 
but when the parties were met themselves, one of them 
thought but of an if: as if you said so, then I said so ; and they 
shook hands and were sworn brothers. 

The slightest attention to those turns of voice 
on the word so, which every one who has the 
least idea of comic humour must necessarily 
adopt in reading this passage, will sufficiently 
exemplify the existence and utility of these two 
circumflexes. 

These five modifications of the voice may be 
called absolute; as they are the only possible 
ways of varying it so as to make one mode es- 
sentially different from the other. High and 
low,, loud and soft, quick and slow, which may 
accompany them, may be called comparative 
modifications, as what is high in one case may 
be low in another, and so of the rest. 



Explanation of Plate I. 

By the foregoing analysis of the voice, we 
perceive it is divisible into two simple in- 
flexions; the rising and falling inflexion; and 
each of these again is divisible into two sorts of 
the same kind. The rising inflexion is divisible 
into that which marks a pause where the mem- 
bers are intimately connected in sense, (as at the 
word satisfactorily, N° V.) and that where they 
terminate in a question (as at N° I. on the word 
No); in both which places the inflexion of voice 
is exactly the same, but should be somewhat 
higher and more continued at the note of inter- 
rogation, than at the comma. The falling in- 
flexion is likewise divisible into that which 
marks a member containing perfect sense not 
necessarily connected with what follows (as 
N° I. at the semicolon at did ^ and at N° IV. at 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 77 

the colon at commandments); and that which 
marks the close of a period (as N° IV. at man): 
these two are essentially the same inflexion, 
and differ only as they are pronounced in a 
higher or a lower tone, — the former terminating 
the members at did and commandments, in a 
middle or higher tone ; and the latter, after a 
gradual fall of voice upon the preceding words, 
sinks into a lower tone upon the word man. 

The two circumflexes, N° VI. and N° VII. 
fall and raise, and raise and fall the voice upon 
the same syllable, in which operation the vowel 
seems to be considerably extended: for which 
reason, in the rising circumflex, N° VI. I have 
extended the vowel o by doubling it, and giving 
the first part of the vowel to the falling, and the 
last to the rising inflexion. In the other exam- 
ple, N° VII.- you, being a diphthong, admits of a 
double sound, exactly equivalent to the letter u, 
which, being analysed, is no more than ye oo } 
pronounced as closely together as possible (See 
Critical Pronouncing Dictionary in the Princi- 
ples, N° 39, 171, and N° 8, in the notes) ; and 
therefore, if we might be permitted to violate 
spelling for the sake of conveying the sound, 
the first part of the word might be pronounced 
ye, with the rising inflexion, and the last part 
like oo, with the falling. 

In this exhibition of the several inflexions of 
the voice to the eye, we have an opportunity of 
observing the true nature of accent. The ac- 
cented syllable, it may be observed, is always 
louder than any other either before or after it ; 
and when we pronounce the word with the fall- 
ing inflexion, the accented syllable is higher as 
well as louder than either the preceding or 
succeeding syllables ; as in the word satisfactory, 
N° III. But when we pronounce this word with 



78 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the rising inflexion,, as in N° II. though it is 
louder and higher than the two first syllables,, it 
is certainly lower than the three last. Did he 
answer satisfactorily? Those who wish to see 
a more minute investigation of the nature of ac- 
cent, may consult Elements of Elocution* Part 
II. page 183. 

The different States of the Voice. 

After the foregoing analysis of the voice 
into its several modifications or inflexions, we 
may take occasion to give a sketch of those states 
or varieties of which it is susceptible in other re- 
spects. Besides the inflexions which have been 
just enumerated^ the only varieties of which the 
voice is xapable, independent of passion, are, 
high, low ; loud, soft ; and these, as they suc- 
ceed each other in a more or less rapid pronun- 
ciation, may be either quick or slow. The terms 
forcible and feeble, which are certainly not 
without ideas to which they are appropriated, 
seem to be severally a compound of two of these 
simple states ; that is, force seems to be loudness 
and quickness, either in a high or a low tone; 
and feebleness seems to be softness and slowness, 
either in a high or a low tone. This, however, I 
wish to submit to the consideration of the philo- 
sophical musician. As to the tones of the pas- 
sions, which are so many and various, these, in 
the opinion of one of the best judges in the king- 
dom, are qualities of sound, occasioned by cer- 
tain vibrations of the organs of speech, inde- 
pendent on high, low, loud, soft, quick, or slow, 
which last may not improperly be called dif- 
ferent quantities of sound. 

It may, perhaps, not be unworthy of observa- 
tion to consider the almost unbounded variety 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 79 

which these principles produce by a different 
combination with each other. The different 
quantities of sound, as these states of the voice 
may be called, may be combined so as to form 
new varieties by uniting with any other that is 
not opposite to it. Thus high may be combined 
with either loud or soft, quick, or slow; that is, 
a high note may be sounded either in a loud or 
a soft tone, and a low note may be sounded 
either in a loud or a soft tone also : and each of 
these combinations may succeed each other 
more swiftly or slowly. W hile forcible seems 
to imply a degree of loudness and swiftness, and 
feeble a degree of softness and slowness, either 
in a high or a low tone. This combination may, 
perhaps, be more easily conceived by classing 
these different quantities in contrast with each 
other. 

High, loud, quick, J For ^le may be high, loud, and quick, 
b ' ' * ' t or low, loud, and quick. 

Low, soft, slow, / Feeb, f ma y, be h W> soft > and slow > 
1 or low, soft, and slow. 

The different combinations of these states may 
be thus represented : 

High, loud, quick Low, loud, quick 

High, loud, slow Low, loud, slow 

High, soft, quick Low, soft, quick 

High, soft, slow. Low, soft, slow. 

When these states of the voice are combined 
with the five modifications of voice above-men- 
tioned, the varieties become exceedingly nume- 
rous, but far from incalculable. Perhaps they 
may arise (for I leave it to arithmeticians to rec- 
kon the exact number) to that number into which 
the ancients distinguished the notes of music ; 
which, if I remember right, were about two 
hundred. 



80 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR 



Practical System of the Inflexions of the Voice. 

Words adopt particular inflexions, either ac- 
cording to the particular signification they bear, 
or as they are either differently arranged or con- 
nected with other words. The first application 
of inflexion relates to emphasis, which will be 
considered in its proper place ; the last relates to 
that application of inflexion, which arises from 
the division of a sentence into its component 
parts, by showing what turns or slides of voice 
are most suitable to the several distinctions, 
rests, and pauses of a sentence. For this pur- 
pose the rising inflexion is denoted by the acute 
accent, thus ('), and the falling inflexion by the 
grave accent, thus ( ' ). 



COMPACT SENTENCE. 



Direct Period, with two Conjunctions. 

Rule I. Every direct period, so constructed 
as to have its two principal constructive parts 
connected by correspondent conjunctions, re- 
quires the long pause with the rising inflexion 
at the end of the first principal constructive 
member. 

EXAMPLES. 

As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial- 
plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are only per- 
ceived by the distance gone over. 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not 
perceive it moving ; so our advances in learning, consisting of 
insensible steps, are only perceivable by the distance. 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, 
but did not perceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass 




RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 81 



has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow : so the advances 
we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps 
are only perceivable by the distance. 

Each of these three sentences consists of two 
principal correspondent parts; the first com- 
mencing with as, and the last with so; as the first 
member of the first sentence is simple, it is 
marked with a comma only at dial-plate ; as the 
second is compounded, it is marked with a se- 
micolon at moving: and as the last is decom- 
pounded, it is marked with a colon at grow : 
this punctuation is according to the general rules 
of pausing, and agreeable to good sense ; for it 
is certainly proper that the time of the pause 
should increase with the increase and complexity 
of the members to which it is annexed, as 
more time is required to comprehend a large and 
complicated member than a short and simple 
one; but whatever may be the time taken up in 
pausing at the different points, the inflexion an- 
nexed to them must always be the same; that 
is, the comma, semicolon, and colon, must in- 
variably have the rising inflexion. 

The same may be observed of the following 
sentences : 

Although I fear it may be a shame to be dismayed at the 
entrance of my discourse in defence of a most valiant man ; and 
that it no way becomes me, while Milo is more concerned for 
the safety of the state than for himself, not to show the same 
greatness of mind in behalf of him : yet this new form of pro- 
secution terrifies my eyes, which, whatever way they turn, 
want the ancient custom of the Forum, and the former man- 
ner of trials. Cicero's Oration for Milo. 

Although, son Marcus, as you have now been a hearer of 
Cratippus for a year, and this at Athens, you ought to abound 
in the precepts and doctrines of philosophy, by reason of the 
great character both of your instructor and the city ; one of 
which can furnish you with knowledge, and the other with 
examples ; yet, as I always to my advantage joined the Latin, 

Q 



82 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

tongue with the Greek, and I have done it not only in oratory, 
but likewise in philosophy ; I think you ought to do the same, 
that you may be equally conversant in both languages. 

Cicero's Offices, book i. chap. 1 . 

These sentences begin with the concessive 
conjunction although, and have their correspon- 
dent conjunction yet; and these conjunctions 
form the two principal constructive members. 
The words him, and examples, therefore, at the 
end of the first members, must have the rising 
inflexion, and here must be the long pause. 

This rule ought to be particularly attended to 
in reading verse. Many of Milton's similes, 
commencing with the conjunction as, have the 
first member so enormously long, that the reader 
is often tempted to drop his voice before he 
comes to the member beginning with the con- 
junction so, though nothing can be more certain 
than that such a fall of the voice is diametrically 
opposite to the sense. 

Thus, in that beautiful description of the af- 
fected indignation of Satan, at the command of 
God to abstain from eating of the tree of life : 

She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 

The tempter (but with show of zeal and love 

To man, and indignation at his wrong) 

New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd 

Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely, and in act 

Kais'd as of some great matter to begin. 

As when of old some orator renown'd 

In Athens or free Home, where eloquence 

Flourished, since mute, to some great cause address'd, 

Stood in himself collected, while each part, 

Motion, each act won audience, ere the tongue 

Sometimes in height began, as no delay 

Of preface brooking through his zeal of right : 

So standing, moving, or to height up grown, 

The tempter all impassion'd thus began. 

Par. Lost, b. ix. v. 664?. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 83 

In this passage, if we do not make a long 
pause with the rising inflexion on the word right 
we utterly destroy the sense. 

In the same manner we may observe some of 
Homer's similes to extend to such a length be- 
fore the application of them to the object illus- 
trated, that the printer, and perhaps Mr. Pope 
himself, has sometimes concluded the first part 
with a full stop. 



Direct Period, with only one Conjunction. 

Rule II. Every direct period, consisting of 
two principal constructive parts, and having 
only the first part commence with a conjunction, 
requires the rising inflexion and long pause at 
the end of this part. 

EXAMPLES. 

As in my speculations I have endeavoured to extinguish 
passion and prejudice, I am still desirous of doing some good 
in this particular. Spectator. 

Here the sentence divides itself into two cor- 
respondent parts at prejudice; and as the word so 
is understood before the words / am, they must 
be preceded by the long pause and rising in- 
flexion. 

If impudence prevailed as much in the Forum and courts 
of justice, as insolence does in the country and places of less 
resort; Aulus Ceecina would submit as much to the impu- 
dence of Sextus /Ebutius in this cause, as he did before to 
his insolence when assaulted by him. 

If I have any genius, which I am sensible can be but very 
small ; or any readiness in speaking, in which I do not deny 
but I have been much conversant ; or any skill in oratory, 
from an acquaintance with the best arts, to which I confess I 
have been always inclined: no one has a better right to de- 
mand of me the fruit of all these things than this Aulus Licinius, 

Cicero's Oration for Archias* 
G 2 



84 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

If after surveying the whole Earth at once, and the severa. 
planets that lie within its neighbourhood; we contemplate 
those wide fields of sether, that reach in height as far as from 
Saturn to the fixed stars, and run abroad almost to an infini- 
tude ; our imagination finds its capacity filled with so immense 
a prospect, and puts itself upon the stretch to comprehend it. 

Addison's Spectator, N° 428. 

In the first of these examples, the first part of 
the sentence ends at resort, and the second be- 
gins at Aulus CcEcina. In the second sentence, 
the first part ends at inclined, and the second be- 
gins at no one ; and in the third, the first part 
ends at infinitude, and the second begins at our ; 
between these words, therefore, in each sen- 
tence must be inserted the long pause and rising 
inflexion. 

All these sentences commence with a con- 
junction, and may be said to have a corre- 
spondent conjunction commencing the second 
part of the sentence, not expressed but under- 
stood. In the first sentence commencing with 
if, then is understood at the beginning of the se- 
cond part; the sense of this conjunctive adverb 
then may be plainly perceived to exist by insert- 
ing it in the sentence, and observing its suitable- 
ness when expressed. 

If impudence prevailed as much in the Forum and courts 
of justice, as insolence does in the country and places of less 
resort ; then Aulus Caecina would submit as much to the im- 
pudence of Sextus iEbutius in this cause, as he did before to 
his insolence when assaulted by him. 

The same insertion of the word then might be 
made in the two last examples commencing 
with if, and the same suitableness would ap- 
pear; for though correct and animated language 
tends to suppress as much as possible the 
words that are so implied in the sense as to 
make it unnecessary to express them, yet if, 
when inserted, they are suitable to the sense., it 



i 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 85 

is a proof the structure of the sentence is per- 
fectly the same, whether these superfluous words 
are expressed or not. 

The exception to this rule is when the em- 
phatical word in the conditional part of the sen- 
tence is in direct opposition to another word in 
the conclusion, and a concession is implied in 
the former, in order to strengthen the argument 
in the latter : for in this case the middle of the 
sentence has the falling, and the latter member 
the rising inflexion. 

EXAMPLES. 

If we have no regard for religion in youth, we ought to 
have some regard for it in age. 

If we have no regard for our bwn character, we ought to 
have some regard for the character of others. 

In these examples we find the words youth 
and own character, have the falling inflexion, and 
both periods end with the rising inflexion : but 
if these sentences had been formed so as to make 
the latter member a mere inference from, or 
consequence of, the former, the general rule 
would have taken place, and the first emphatic 
word would have had the rising, and the last the 
falling inflexion. 

EXAMPLES. 

If we have no regard for religion in youth, we have seldom 
any regard for it in age. 

If we have no regard for our own character, it can scarcely 
be expected that we should have any regard for the character 
of others. 

Rule III. Direct periods, which commence 
with participles to the present tense, consist of 
two parts ; between which must be inserted the 
long pause and rising inflexion. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



EXAMPLE. 
Having already shown how the fancy is affected by the 
works of nature, and afterwards considered in general both 
the works of nature and of art how they mutually assist and 
complete each other, in forming such scenes and prospects as 
are apt to delight the mind of the beholder ; I shall in this 
paper throw together some reflections on that particular 
art, which has a more immediate tendency than any other, to 
produce those primary pleasures of the imagination, which have 
hitherto been the subject of this discourse. Sped, N° 415. 

The sense is suspended in this sentence till 
the word beholder, and here is to be placed the 
long pause and rising inflexion ; in this place 
also it is evident, the word noxv might be inserted 
in perfect conformity to the sense. 

Inverted Period. 

Rule I. Every period, where the first part 
forms perfect sense by itself, but is modified or 
determined in its signification by the latter, has 
the rising inflexion and long pause between 
these parts as in the direct period. 

EXAMPLES. 

Gratian very often recommends the fine t<4ste, as the utmost 
perfection of an accomplished man. 

In this sentence the first member ending at 
taste forms perfect sense, but is qualified by the 
last; for Gratian is not said simply to recom- 
mend the fine taste, but to recommend it in a 
certain way ; that is, as the utmost perfection of 
an accomplished man. The same may be ob- 
served of the following sentence : 

Persons of good taste expect to be pleased, at the same 
time they are informed. 

Here perfect sense is formed at pleased ; but it 
is not meant that persons of good taste are 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 87 

pleased in general, but with reference to the 
time when they are informed ; the words taste 
and pleased, therefore in these sentences, we 
must pronounce with the rising inflexion, and 
accompany this inflexion with a pause; for the 
same reasons, the same pause and inflexion 
must precede the word though in the following 
example : 

I can desire to perceive those things that God has pre- 
pared for those that love him, though they be such as eye 
had not seen, ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of 
man to conceive. Locke* 

LOOSE SENTENCE. 

A loose sentence has been shown to consist 
of a period, either direct or inverted, and an ad- 
ditional member which does not modify it; or, 
in other words, a loose sentence is a member 
containing perfect sense by itself, followed by 
some other member or members, which do not 
restrain or qualify its signification. According 
to this definition, a loose sentence must have 
that member which forms perfect sense detached 
from those that follow, by a long pause and the 
falling inflexion. 

As in speaking, the ear seizes every occasion 
of varying the tone of voice, which the sense 
will permit; so in reading, we ought as much as 
possible to imitate the variety of speaking, by 
taking every opportunity of altering the voice 
in correspondence with the sense : the most ge- 
neral fault of printers*, is to mark those mem- 

* The grand defect of the points is, that only two of them, 
the comma and period, necessarily mark a continuation and 
completion of sense : the semicolon and colon, by being some- 
times placed after complete sense, and sometimes where the 
sense continues, are very fallacious guides, and often lead the 
reader to an improper turn of voice. If to the colon and se- 
micolon were annexed a mark to determine whether the sense 



88 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

bers of loose sentences, which form perfect sense, 
with a comma, instead of a semicolon, or colon : 
and a similar, as well as the most common fault 
of readers, is to suspend the voice at the end of 
these members, and so to run the sense of one 
member into another; by this means, the sense 
is obscure, and a monotony is produced, in- 
stead of that distinctness and variety which 
arises from pronouncing these members with 
such an inflexion of voice as marks a certain 
portion of perfect sense, not immediately con- 
nected with what follows ; for as a member of 
this kind does not depend for its sense on the 
following member, it ought to be pronounced in 
such a manner, as to show its independence on 
the succeeding member, and its dependence on 
the period, as forming but a part of it. 

In order to convey precisely the import of 
these members, it is necessary to pronounce 
them with the falling inflexion, without suffer- 
ing the voice to fall gradually as at a period, 
by which means the pause becomes different from 

were complete or not, it must certainly be of the greatest as- 
sistance to the reader, as he would naturally accompany it 
with a turn of voice, which would indicate the completeness 
or incompleteness of the sense, independent on the time ; and 
such a mark seems one of the great desiderata of punctuation. 
I know it may be said that the completeness or incomplete- 
ness of the sense is of itself a sufficient guide, without any 
points at all : yes, it may be answered, but without the gift of 
prophecy we are not always able to determine at sight whe- 
ther the sense is complete or not ; and sometimes even when 
we have the whole sentence in view, it is the punctuation only 
that determines whether the member of a sentence belongs to 
what goes before, or to what follows. The intention of the 
points is, in the first place, to fix and determine the sense 
when it might otherwise be doubtful ; and, in the next place, 
to apprise the reader of the sense of part of a sentence before 
he has seen the whole. A mark, therefore, which accom- 
plishes this purpose, must unquestionably be of the utmost 
importance to the art of reading. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 89 

the mere comma, which suspends the voice, and 
marks immediate dependence on what follows ; 
and from the period, which marks not only an 
independence on what follows, but an exclusion 
of whatever may follow, and therefore drops the 
voice as at a conclusion. An example will 
assist us in comprehending this important in- 
flexion in reading : 

All superiority and pre-eminence that one man can have 
over another, may be reduced to the notion of quality, which, 
considered at large, is either that of fortune, body, or mind. 
The first is that which consists in birth, title, or riches : and is 
the most foreign to our natures, and what we can the least call 
our own, of any of the three kinds of quality. Sped. N° 219. 

In the first part of this sentence the falling 
inflexion takes place on the word quality ; for 
this member we rind contains perfect sense, and 
the succeeding members are not necessarily con- 
nected with it; the same inflexion takes place in 
the next member on the word riches; which, 
with respect to the sense of the member it termi- 
nates, and its connexion with the following 
members is exactly under the same predicament 
as the former, though the one is marked with a 
comma, and the other with a semicolon, which is 
the common punctuation in almost all the edi- 
tions of the Spectator. A little reflection, how- 
ever, will show us the necessity of adopting the 
same pause and inflexion on both the above-men- 
tioned words, as this inflexion not only marks 
more precisely the completeness of the sense in 
the members they terminate, but gives a variety 
to the period, by making the first and the suc- 
ceeding members end in a different tone of voice. 
If we were to read all the members, as if marked 
with commas, that is, as if the sense of the 
members were absolutely dependent on each 
other, the necessity of attending to this inflexion 



90 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

of voice in loose sentences would more evidently 
appear. This division of a sentence is some- 
times, and ought almost always to be, marked 
with a semicolon, as in the following sentence 
at the word possess. 

EXAMPLE. 
Foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost 
than what they possess ; and to fix their eyes upon those who 
are richer than themselves, rather than those who are under 
greater difficulties. Sped. N° 57i. 

The result of these examples is one almost 
invariable rule, namely, that however the in- 
flexions may alter upon the pauses in every other 
part of the sentence, yet in that part of the sen- 
tence where the sense begins to form, we must 
constantly adopt the rising inflexion. This is 
abundantly exemplified in the sentences already 
produced, and is indeed one of the most general 
rules in reading. Those who wish to see a far- 
ther application of the inflexions, must consult 
Elements of Elocution, vol. i. p. 180. 

Orthoepial Figures ; 

OR, 

Figures of Pronunciation. 

As we call that a figure of speech which has 
a peculiarity of meaning, and differs from the 
most simple and ordinary sense of the words ; 
so I call those figures Orthoepial, where the pe- 
culiarity of the phrase requires a peculiarity of 
pronunciation. Under these figures of Orthoepy, 
I class the Interrogation, the Exclamation, and 
the Parenthesis ; which are generally said, by 
our grammarians, to require some peculiar mo- 
dulation of the voice ; and to these I shall add 
other figures, which may be called, The Com- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 91 

mencement, The Contrast, The Series, The Ques- 
tion and Answer, The Echo, The Antecedent, 
The Variation, and The Cadence. I shall not 
contend for the strictly logical propriety of this 
classification, but shall content myself with 
hoping that it may have a tendency to place se- 
veral important particulars of pronunciation in a 
clearer and more distinct point of view ; and by 
that means gain them a more attentive consider- 
ation, and an easier admission to the understand- 
ing. Nothing can be a greater proof of the 
advancement of science than a new Nomencla- 
ture. If new combinations and new distinctions 
of ideas are discovered, there must necessarily 
be new terms to express them. 



The Interrogation. 

It must be first observed, that, with respect to 
pronunciation, all questions may be divided into 
two classes ; namely, into such as are formed by 
the interrogative pronouns or adverbs, and into 
such as are formed only by an inversion of the 
common arrangement of the words*; the first 
with respect to inflexion of voice, except in some 
few cases, may be considered as purely declara- 
tive; and like declarative sentences, they require 
the falling inflexion at the end : and the last, 
with some few exceptions, require the rising in- 
flexion of voice on the last word ; and it is this 
rising inflexion at the end which distinguishes 
them from almost every other species of sentence: 
— of both these in their order. 



* Mr. Harris calls the former of these questions indefinite, 
and the latter definite ; as these may be answered by yes or 
?io, while those often require a whole sentence to answer 
them. See Hermes, b. i. p. 151. 



n RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

The indefinite Question, or the Question with the 
Interrogative Words. 

Rule I. When an interrogative sentence 
commences with any of the interrogative pro- 
nouns or adverbs, with respect to inflexion,, ele- 
vation, or depression of voice, it is pronounced 
exactly like a declarative sentence. 

EXAMPLES. 

How can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great and noble, 
who only believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this 
world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his consciousness 
for ever ? Spectator, N° 210. 

As an illustration of the rule, we need only 
alter two or three of the words to reduce it to a 
declarative sentence ; and we shall find the in- 
flexion, elevation, and depression of voice on 
every part of it the same. 

He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, 
because he only believes that, after a short turn on the stage 
of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his con- 
sciousness for ever. 

Here we perceive, that the two sentences, 
though one is an interrogation, and the other a 
declaration, end both with the same inflexion 
of voice, and that the falling inflexion ; but if we 
convert these words into an interrogation, by 
leaving out the interrogative word, we shall 
soon perceive the difference. 

Can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, who 
only believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, 
he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for 
ever ? 

In pronouncing this sentence with propriety, 
we find the voice slide upwards on the last 
words : contrary to the inflexion it takes in the 
two former examples. If grammarians, there- 
fore, by the elevation of voice, which they attri- 
bute to the question, mean the rising inflexion, 
their rule, with some few exceptions, is true 
only of questions formed without the interro- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 93 

gative words ; for the others, though they may 
have a force and loudness on the last words, if 
they happen to be emphatical, have no more of 
that distinctive inflexion which is peculiar to the 
former kind of interrogation, than if they were 
no questions at all. Let us take another example: 
— Why should not a female character be as ridi- 
culous in a man, as a male character in one of 
the female sex? Here the voice is no more ele- 
vated at the end than if I were to say — A female 
character is just as ridiculous in a man, as a male 
character in one of the female sex ; but if I say, 
Is not a female character as ridiculous in a man, 
as a male character in one of the female sex? 
Here not only the emphasis, but the rising in- 
flexion is on the last words; essentially different 
from the inflexion on these words in the first 
question, IVhy should not a female character be as 
ridiculous in a man, as a male character in one of 
the female sex ? We may presume, therefore, 
that it is the emphasis, with which these questions 
sometimes terminate, that has led the generality 
of grammarians to conclude, that all questions 
terminate in an elevation of voice, and so to 
confound that essential difference there is be- 
tween a question formed with and without the 
interrogative words. 

Rule II. Interrogative sentences commencing 
with interrogative words, and consisting of mem- 
bers in a scries depending necessarily on each 
other for sense, are to be pronounced as a series 
of members of the same kind in a declarative 
sentence. See Series, page 106. 

EXAMPLES. 
From whence can he produce such cogent exhortations to 
the practice of every virtue, such ardent excitements to piety 
and devotion, and such assistance to attain them, as those 
which are to be met with throughout every page of these in- 
imitable writings ? Jenyns's Vkvo of the Internal Evid. p. 41 . 



94 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Where, amidst the dark clouds of pagan philosophy, can 
he show us such a clear prospect of a future state, the immor- 
tality of the soul, the resurrection of the dead, and the general 
judgment, as in St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians ? 

Ibid. p. 40. 



The definite Question, or the Question without 
the interrogative Words. 

Rule I. When interrogative sentences are 
formed without the interrogative words, the last 
word must have the rising inflexion. If there 
he an emphatical word in the last member, fol- 
lowed by several words depending on it, which 
conclude the sentence, both the emphatical word 
and the concluding words are to be pronounced 
with the rising inflexion* : thus the words making 
one, and cause of the shipzvreck, in the two fol- 
lowing examples, have all the rising inflexion. 

EXAMPLES. 

Would it not employ a beau prettily enough, if, instead of 
eternally playing with his snuff-box, he spent some part of his 
time in making one ? Spectator, N° 43. 

If the owner of a vessel had fitted it out with every thing 
necessary, and provided to the utmost of his power againt the 
dangers of the sea, and that a storm should afterwards arise 
and break the masts, would any one in that case accuse him of 
being the cause of the shipwreck ? 

Demosthenes on the Crown. Rollin. 

Would an infinitely wise Being make such glorious beings 
for so mean a purpose ? Can he delight in the production of 
such abortive intelligences, such short-lived reasonable be- 
ings ? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted, 
capacities that are not to be gratified ? Spectator, N° 11 J . 

It is said of Diogenes, that meeting a young man who was 
going to a feast, he took him up in the street and carried him 
home to his friends as one who was running into imminent dan- 
ger, had he not prevented him. What would that philosopher 

* That is, the word one is to be pronounced as if it were an 
unaccented syllable of the word making, and as if written 
making one. See The different Forces of Emphatical Words. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 95 

have said had he been present at the gluttony of a modern 
meal ? 

Would not he have thought the master of a family mad, and 
have begged his servants to tie down his hands, had he seen 
him devour fowl, fish, and flesh; swallow oil, and vinegar, 
wines, and spices : throw down sallads of twenty different 
herbs, sauces of a hundred ingredients, confections and fruits 
of numberless sweets and flavours? Sjjectator, N° 195. 

Should a spirit of superior rank, who is a stranger to human 
nature, accidentally alight upon the Earth, and take a survey 
of its inhabitants, what would his notions of us be ? Would 
not he think that we are a species of beings, made for quite 
different ends and purposes than what we really are? Must 
not he imagine that we were placed in this world to get riches 
and honours ? Would not he think that it was our duty to toil 
after wealth, and station and title ? Nay, would not he be- 
lieve we were forbidden poverty by threats of eternal pu- 
nishment, and enjoined to pursue our pleasures under pain of 
damnation ? He would certainly imagine that we were in- 
fluenced by a scheme of duties quire opposite to those which 
are indeed prescribed to us. Ibid. N° 575. 

In these examples we find, that, however va- 
riously the voice may employ itself on the rest 
of the sentence, the concluding word's on the 
last member must necessarily be suspended with 
the rising reflexion. The only exception to this 
rule is, when these interrogative sentences are 
connected by the disjunctive or ; for in that case 
the sentence or sentences that succeeded the 
conjunction are pronounced as if they were 
formed bv the interrogative words, or were 
merely declarative. 

Rule II. When interrogative sentences con- 
nected by the disjunctive or, succeed each other, 
the first ends with the rising, and the rest with 
the falling inflexion. 

EXAMPLES. 
Shall we in your person crown the author of the public 
calamities, or shall we destroy him ? 

JEschineson the Croxvn. Rollin. 



96 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Is the goodness, or wisdom, of the divine Being, more ma- 
nifest in this his proceedings? Spectator, N° 519. 

Exclamation. 

This note is appropriated by grammarians to 
indicate that some passion or emotion is con- 
tained in the words to which it is annexed, and 
it may, therefore, be looked upon as essentially 
distinct from the rest of the points ; the office of 
which is commonly supposed to be, that of fixing 
or determining the sense only. Whether a point 
that indicates passion or emotion, without deter- 
mining what emotion or passion is meant, or if 
we had points expressive of every passion or 
emotion, whether this would in common usage 
more assist or embarrass the elocution of the 
reader, I shall not at present attempt to decide : 
but when this point is applied to sentences, 
which from their form might be supposed to bfe 
merely interrogative, and yet really imply won- 
der, surprise, or astonishment ; when this use, I 
say, is made of the note of exclamation, it must 
be confessed to be of no small importance in 
reading, and very justly deserve a place in 
grammatical punctuation. 

Thus the sentence, Hoxv mysterious are the 
ways of Providence! which naturally adopts the 
exclamation, may, by a speaker who denies 
these mysteries, become a question, by laying 
a stress on the word hoxv, and subjoining the note 
of interrogation ; as, How mysterious are the 
ways of Providence? Expressing our gratitude, 
we may cry out with rapture, What have you done 
for me I or we may use the very same words 
contemptuously to inquire, What have you done 
for me ? intimating that nothing has been done ; 
the very different import of these sentences, as 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 97 

they are differently pointed, sufficiently show the 
utility of the note of exclamation. 

It may not be entirely useless to take notice 
of a common errour of grammarians; which is, 
that both this point and the interrogation re- 
quire an elevation of voice. The inflexion of 
voice proper to one species of question, which 
it is probable, grammarians may have mistaken 
for an elevation of voice, it is presumed has been 
fully explained under that article : by the eleva- 
tion of voice they impute to this point, it is not 
unlikely that they mean the pathos or energy, 
with which we usually express passion or emo- 
tion, but which is by no means inseparably 
connected with elevation of voice : were we 
even to suppose that all passion or emotion ne- 
cessarily assumes a louder tone, it must still be 
acknowledged this is very different from a higher 
tone of voice, and therefore that the common 
rule is very fallacious and inaccurate. 

The truth is, the expression of passion or emo- 
tion consists in giving a distinct and specific 
quality to the sounds we use, rather than in in- 
creasing or diminishing their quantity, or in 
giving this quantity any local direction upwards 
or downwards: understanding the import of a 
sentence, and expressing that sentence with pas- 
sion or emotion, are things as distinct as the head 
and the heart: this point therefore, though use- 
ful to distinguish interrogation from emotion, is 
as different from the rest of the points as Gram- 
mar is from Rhetoric : and whatever may be the 
tone of voice proper to the note of exclamation, 
it is certain the inflexions it requires are exactly 
the same as the rest of the points; that is, if 
the exclamation point is placed after a member 
that would have the rising inflexion in another 
sentence, it ought to have the rising in this; if 

H 



98 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

after a member that would have the falling* in- 
flexion, the exclamation ought to have the fall- 
ing inflexion likewise. 

An instance that the exclamation requires no 
particular inflexion of voice may be seen in the 
following speech of Gracchus, quoted by Cicero, 
and inserted in the Spectator, N° 541. 

Whither shall I tiirn ? Wretch that I am ! to what place 
shall I betake myself? Shall I go to the Capitol? Alas! it is 
overflowed with my brother's blood ! Or shall I retire to my 
house ? yet there I behold my mother plunged in misery, 
weeping, and despairing ! 

Every distinct portion of this passage may be 
truly said to be an exclamation ; and yet we find 
in reading it, though it can scarcely be pronoun- 
ced with too much emotion, the inflexions of voice 
are the same as if pronounced without any emo- 
tion at all ; that is, the portion, Whither shall I 
turn, terminates like a question, with the inter- 
rogative word, with the falling inflexion. The 
member, Wretch that I am, like a member form- 
ing incomplete sense, with the rising inflexion ; 
the question without the interrogative word, 
Shall I go to the Capitol, with the rising in- 
flexion; Alas! it is overflowed with my brothers 
blood, with the failing; the question commen- 
cing with the disjunctive or, Or shall I retire to 
my house, with the falling inflexion, but in a 
lower tone of voice. 

Thus we see how vague and indefinite are the 
general rules for reading this point, for want of 
distinguishing high and low tones of voice from 
those upward and downward slides, which may 
be in any note of the voice, and which, from 
their radical difference, form the most marking 
differences in pronunciation. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 99 

Parenthesis. 

The parenthesis is defined by our excellent 
grammarian. Dr. Lowth, to be a member of a 
sentence inserted in the body of a sentence, 
■which member is neither necessary to the sense, 
nor at all affects the construction. He observes 
also, that, in reading, or speaking, it ought to 
have a moderate depression of the voice, and a 
pause greater than a comma. 

The real nature of the parenthesis once under- 
stood, we are at no loss for the true manner of 
delivering it. The tone of voice ought to be in- 
terrupted, as it were, by something unforeseen ; 
and, after a pause, the parenthesis should be 
pronounced in a lower tone of voice, at the end 
of which, after another pause, the higher tone of 
voice, which was interrupted, should be re- 
sumed, that the connexion between the former 
and latter part of the interrupted sentence may 
be restored. It may be observed too, that, in 
order to preserve the integrity of the principal 
members, the parenthesis ought not only to be 
pronounced in a lower tone, but a degree swifter 
than the rest of the period, as this still better 
preserves the broken sense, and distinguishes 
the explanation from the text. For that this is 
always the case in conversation, we can be un- 
der no doubt, when we consider that whatever 
is supposed to make our auditors wait, gives an 
impulse to the tongue, in order to relieve them, 
as soon as possible, from the suspense of an oc- 
casional and unexpected interruption. 

EXAMPLES. 

Notwithstanding all this care of Cicero, history informs us, 
that Marcus proved a mere blockhead ; and that nature (who 
it seems was even with the son for her prodigality to the fa- 
ther) rendered him incapable of improving, by all the rules of 

H 2 



100 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

eloquence, the precepts of philosophy, his own endeavours, 
and the most refined conversation in Athens. Spect. N° 307. 

Natural historians observe (for whilst I am in the country I 
must fetch my allusions from thence) that only the male birds 
have voices ; that their songs begin a little before breeding- 
time, and end a little after. Ibid. N° 128. 

Dr. Clarke has observed, that Homer is more perspicuous 
than any other author ; buLif he is so (which yet may be ques- 
tioned) the perspicuity arises from his subject, and not from the 
language itself in which he writes. Ward's Grammar, p. 292. 

The many letters which come to me from persons of the 
best sense of both sexes (for I may pronounce their characters 
from their way of writing) do not a little encourage me in the 
prosecution of this my undertaking. Spect. N° 124. 

It is this sense, which furnishes the imagination with its 
ideas; so that by the pleasures of the imagination or fancy 
(which I shall use promiscuously) I here mean such as arise 
from visible objects. Ibid. N° 411. 

We sometimes meet, in books very respectably 
printed,, with the parenthesis marked where there 
ought to be only commas. We have an instance 
of this in Hannah M ore's Strictures on Modern 
Female Education ; where, describing in the 
most picturesque and truly satiric style, the con- 
fusion, indifference, and insincerity, which reign 
at routs and drums, she says, <( He would hear 
<f the same stated phrases interrupted, not an- 
<( swered, by the same stated replies ; the unfi- 
" nished sentence ' driven adverse to the winds ' 
" by pressing multitudes ; the same warm regret 
Ci mutually exchanged by two friends (who 
€< had been expressly denied to each other all the 
" winter) that they had not met before ; the same 
" soft and smiling sorrow at being torn away 
" from each other now ; the same anxiety to re- 
" new the meeting, with perhaps the same secret 
<; resolution to avoid it." Vol. ii. p. ISO. 

In this beautiful description, the words mark- 
ed with the parenthesis belong essentially to the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 101 

thought, and therefore ought only to have heen 
included between commas. 

The same may be observed of a very long in- 
tervening member, in a beautiful description of 
intemperance in eating, by Pope. 

The stomach (cramm'd from ev'rv dish, 
A tomb of boil'd and roast, and flesh and fish, 
Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar, 
And all the man is one intestine war) 
Remembers oft the school boy's simple fare, 
The temp'rate sleeps, and spirits light as air. 

Pope's Imitation of Horace, Sat. ii. 

This insertion of a parenthesis where it ought 
not to be, is by no means so common a fault as 
that of omitting it where it ought to be inserted. 
Where it depends on nice distinctions, which is 
sometimes the case, the fault is pardonable, but 
not in such as have been here taken notice of. 



The Commencement. 

That we should begin to pronounce whatever 
we read a little more deliberately, than when we 
have entered on the subject, is an observation 
that few will dissent from. Most of our punc- 
tuists will admit of a pause after a nominative, 
when it consists of a long member of a sentence, 
but none have taken notice of a pause at the be- 
ginning of every sentence, which may very pro- 
perly take place after a single word, when the 
sentence begins with a proper name, or a word 
that stands for the subject of the discourse. 
Thus, in Mr. Addison's description of Good- 
nature, Discretion, and Cheerfulness : 

Good-nature is more agreeable in conversation than wit, 
and gives a certain air to the countenance, which is more 
amiable than beauty. Spectator, N° 169. 



102 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Discretion does not only show itself in words, but in all the 
circumstances of action; and is like an under-agent of Pro- 
vidence, to guide and direct us in the ordinary concerns of 
life. Ibid. N° 225. 

Cheerfulness bears the same friendly regard to the mind as 
to the body : it banishes all anxious care and discontents, 
soothes and composes the passions, and keeps the soul in a 
perpetual calm. Ibid. N° 387. 

In these examples we shall find it very proper 
to pause after the first word in every sentence, 
that the attention may be the better fixed upon 
what forms the subject of them. This rule, 
however, is not confined to such words as form 
the subject of a sentence. Wherever a word of 
importance commences a sentence^ it ought to 
be distinguished in the same manner by a pause. 
Thus in the following sentences : 

Man is the merriest species in the creation ; all above and 
below him are serious. Sped. N° 249. 

Hypocrisy cannot indeed be too much detested ; but at the 
same time is to be preferred to open impiety. Ibid. N° 458. 

Memory is the purveyor of reason ; the power which places 
those images before the mind, upon which the judgment is to 
be exercised. Johnson. 

Wisdom comprehends at once the end and the means, esti- 
mates easiness or difficulty, and is cautious or confident in 
due proportion. Johnson. 

Man is seldom willing to let fall the opinion of his own 
dignity ; he is better content to want diligence than power ; 
and sooner confesses the depravity of his will than the imbe- 
cility of his nature. Ibid. 

Nature seems to have taken a particular care to disseminate 
her blessings among the different regions of the world, with 
an eye to their mutual intercourse and traffic among mankind, 
that the natives of the several parts of the globe might have 
a kind of dependence upon one another, and be united together 
by their common interest. Spectator, K°69. 

It is presumed that there are few readers of 
taste, who would not prefer a pause after the first 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 103 

word in all these sentences, to such a pronuncia- 
tion, as should slide into the succeeding words 
without any rest at all. 

Another instance we may borrow from Dr. 
Price's beautiful picture of virtue. 

Virtue is of intrinsic value and good desert, and of indis- 
pensable obligation; not the creature of will, but necessary and 
immutable; not local or temporary, but of equal extent and an- 
tiquity with the divine mind ; not a mode of sensation, but 
everlasting truth; not dependent on power, but the guide of all 
power. Virtue is the foundation of honour and esteem, and 
the source of all beauty, order, and happiness, in nature. 

Mr. Addison furnishes us with many instances 
where a single person begins a sentence : 

Homer is in his province when he is describing a battle or 
a multitude, a hero or a god. Virgil is never better pleased 
than when he is in his Elysium, or copying out an entertaining 
picture. Homer's persons are most of them godlike and ter- 
rible ; Virgil has scarce admitted any into his poem, who are 
not beautiful, and has taken particular care to make his hero 
so. Spectator, N° 417. 

Plato expresses his abhorrence of some fables of the poets, 
which seem to reflect on the gods as the authors of injustice; 
and lays it down as a principle, that whatever is permitted to 
befall a just man, whether poverty, sickness, or any of those 
things which seem to be evils, shall, either in life or death, 
conduce to his good. Spectator, N° 237. 

Seneca has written a discourse purposely upon this subject, 
in which he takes pains, after the doctrine of the Stoics, to 
show that adversity is not in itself an evil; and mentions a 
noble saying of Demetrius, " That nothing would be more 
" unhappy than a man who had never known affliction." 

Ibid. 

Tully was the first who observed that friendship improves 
happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy, and 
dividing of our grief; a thought, in which he hath been fol- 
lowed by all the essayers upon friendship that have written 
since his time. Ibid. N° 68. 

In all these passages, a good reader will per- 
ceive the propriety of pausing after the first 
word which forms the nominative case, or the 



104 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

subject of the sentence. By this pause the 
mind is fixed upon the principal object of atten- 
tion, and prepared to proceed with clearness and 
deliberation to the reception of what follows. 

The Contrast. 

When words or phrases are placed in contrast 
with each other, for the sake of being more dis- 
tinctly perceived and more forcibly impressed 
upon the mind, they require a longer pause than 
ordinary between the contrasted parts, that each 
part may be more accurately distinguished ; and 
a difference in the tone of voice with which 
each is pronounced, that this distinction may be 
more powerfully enforced. The distinction of 
voice I would recommend is a higher tone of 
voice upon the first part of the contrast ; and, 
after a long pause, a lower tone upon the se- 
cond. This mode of pronunciation will, if I 
mistake not, at once contribute to the clearness, 
force, and variety of the whole. 

It may be observed, that when the contrast is 
formed between two persons or things, each of 
which begins the member of a sentence, they 
must each of them have the pause we should 
give to the comma; for though these persons or 
things form the nominative case to the verb, 
and consist but of a single word, it will be neces- 
sary to pause after each, in order to show the 
contrast more distinctly. 

EXAMPLES. 

At the same time that I think discretion the most useful ta- 
lent a man can be master of, I look upon cunning to be the 
accomplishment of little, mean, ungenerous minds. Discre- 
tion, points out the noblest ends to us, and pursues the most 
proper and laudable methods of attaining them : cunning, has 
only private selfish aims, and sticks at nothing that may make 



RHETORICAL GRMAMAR. 105 

them succeed. Discretion, has large and extended views, and, 
like a well -formed eye, commands a whole horizon: cunning, 
is a kind of short-sightedness, that discovers the minutest ob- 
jects that are near at hand, but is not able to discern things at 
a distance. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives a 
greater authority to the person who possesses it ; cunning, 
when it is once detected, loses its force, and makes a man in- 
capable of bringing about, even those events, which he might 
have done had he passed only for a plain man. Discretion, is 
the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of 
life: cunning, is a kind of instinct, that only looks out after 
our immediate interest and welfare. Discretion, is only found 
in men of strong sense and good understanding ; cunning, is 
often to be met with in brutes themselves, and in persons who 
are but the fewest removes from them : in short, cunning, is 
only the mimic of discretion, and may pass upon weak men, 
in the same manner as vivacity is often mistaken for wit, and 
gravity for wisdom. Spectator, N° 22.5. 

We have a shining instance of the force of 
contrast in Cicero, where he is showing the un- 
equal circumstances of Catiline when compared 
with those of the Roman citizens. 

But waving all other circumstances, let us balance the real 
situation of the opposing parties ; from that we can form a 
true notion how very low our enemies are reduced. Here, 
regard to virtue, opposes insensibity to shame; purity, pol- 
lution; integrity, injustice ; virtue, villany; resolution, rage; 
dignity, defilement; regularity, riot. On one side, are ranged, 
equity, temperance, courage, prudence, and every virtue ; on 
the other, iniquity, luxury, cowardice, rashness, with every 
vice. Lastly, the struggle lies between wealth and want ; the 
dignity, and degeneracy of reason ; the force, and the phrensy 
of the soul; between well-grounded hope, and widely extended 
despair. In such a strife,, in such a struggle as this, even 
though the zeal of men were wanting, must not the immortal 
gods give such shining virtues, the superioiity over so great 
and such complicated vices ? Certainly. 

Cicero's Oration against Catiline. 

In pronouncing this passage we must carefully 
pause between every contrasted word, or the 
whole force of the comparison will be lost ; nay, 
there will be danger of obscuring the sense by 
blending together opposite qualities, if we do 



106 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

not carefully keep them separate by pauses, and 
at the same time give an additional diversity to 
the opposing* parts by a different shade of sound : 
that is, if we do not give the former part of the 
contrast a higher sound, and the latter a some- 
what lower. 

The same observations will hold good in pro- 
nouncing the following passage in Cicero's Ora- 
tion for Roscius of America. 

Therefore, O ye Judges ! you are now to consider, whe- 
ther it is more probable that the deceased was murdered by 
the man who inherits his estate, or by him, who inherits no- 
thing but beggary by the same death. By the man who was 
raised from penury to plenty, or by him who was brought 
from happiness to misery. By him whom the lust of lucre has 
inflamed with the most inveterate hatred against his own rela- 
tions ; or by him whose life was such, that he never knew 
what gain was but from the product of his own labours. By 
him, who, of all dealers in the trade of blood, was the most 
audacious; or by him who was so little accustomed to the 
Forum and trials, that he dreads not only the benches of a 
court, but the very town. In short, ye Judges, what I think 
most to this point is, you are to consider whether it is most 
likely that an enemy, or a son, would be guilty of this murder. 



The Series. 

There is a species of sentences, which forms 
one of the greatest beauties of composition, and 
which, if well pronounced, is among the most 
striking graces of delivery : that is, where a 
number of particular members follow in a series, 
and form something like a gradation or climax. 
If we consider the nature of such a sentence, it 
will, in some measure, direct us to a just pro- 
nunciation of it. It is a whole composed of 
many particulars, arranged in such order as to 
show each part distinctly, and, at the same time, 
its relation to the whole. In order to mark these 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 107 

particulars distinctly, they must not be suffered 
to blend with each other : and at the same time 
to show that they have a common relation to the 
whole sentence, they must not be pronounced 
entirely different. In short, the similitude and 
diversity in the pronunciation should be an exact 
picture of the similitude and diversity in the 
composition. For as a climax in writing* ought 
to rise in force as it proceeds, so the voice, in 
pronouncing it, ought gradually to increase its 
force upon every subsequent member. Here is 
the diversity ; but, as the members have a simi- 
lar form, and stand equally related to the object 
of the sentence, they ought to have a similar in- 
flexion of the voice. Here is the uniformity : 
for it is this inflexion or slide of the voice that 
classes speaking sounds more specifically than 
any other distinction. But as these particulars, 
when they form a climax, are really emphatical, 
and require the falling slide, so every series of 
particulars, whether they really increase in force 
or not, may, for the sake of gratifying the ear, 
and giving an importance to the subject, adopt 
the falling inflexion likewise. This, however, 
must be understood only as a general rule. 

These observations premised, we may proceed 
to distinguish the series into two kinds: that, 
where the series begins the sentence, but does 
not either end it, or form complete sense ; which 
we may call the commencing series : and that, 
where the series either ends the sentence, or 
forms complete sense ; which we may call the 
concluding series. For the pronunciation of these 
different sentences, we may lay down this general 
rule. 

In a Commencing series, pronounce every par- 
ticular with the falling inflexion but the last; 
and in a Concluding series, let every member 



108 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

have the falling inflexion except the last hut 
one; and this ought to have the falling in- 
flexion likewise, if it be of sufficient length to 
admit of a pause with a rising inflexion before 
the end. 

In order to convey as clear an idea as possible 
of the pronunciation of this Figure, a Plate is 
annexed, delineating the inflexions of Mr. Addi- 
son's beautiful description of Milton's Figure of 
Death. See page 109. 



Commencing Series. 



To advise the ignorant, relieve the needy, comfort the af- 
flicted, are duties that fall in our way, almost every day of 
our lives. Spectator, N° 9:3. 

In our country, a man seldom sets up for a poet without 
attacking the reputation of all his brothers in the art. The 
ignorance of the moderns, the scribblers of the age, the decay 
of poetry, are the topics of detraction, with which he makes 
his entrance into the world. Ibid. N° 253. 

The miser is more industrious than the saint. The pains of 
getting, the fear of losing, and the inability of enjoying his 
wealth, have been the mark of satire in all ages. Ibid. N° 62k 

When ambition pulls one way, interest another, inclination 
a third, and perhaps reason contrary to all, a man is likely to 
pass his time but ill, who has so many different parties to 
please. Ibid. N° 162. 

As the genius of Milton was wonderfully turned to the sub- 
lime, his subject is the noblest that could have entered into the 
thoughts of man : every thing that is truly great and astonish- 
ing, has a place in it : the whole system of the intellectual 
world, the chaos and the creation, Heaven, Earth, and Hell, 
enter into the constitution of his poem. Ibid. N° 315. 

Labour or exercise ferments the humours, casts them into 
their proper channels, throws off redundances, and helps nature 
in those secret distributions, without which the bod}* cannot 
subsist in its vigour, nor the soul act with cheerfulness. 

Ibid. ^U 5. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 10 9 



Were the books of our best authors to be retailed to the 
public, and every page submitted to the taste of forty or fifty 
thousand readers, I am afraid we should complain of many 
flat expressions, trivial observations, beaten topics, and com- 
mon thoughts, which go off very well in the lump. 

Ibid.JS 124. 

To preserve in Macbeth a just consistency of character, to 
make that character naturally susceptible of those desires that 
were to be communicated to it, to render it interesting to the 
spectator by some amiable qualities, to make it exemplify the 
dangers of ambition, and the terrors of remorse, was all that 
could be required of the tragedian and the moralist. 

Mrs, Montague a Essay on Shakspeare, p. 198. 

The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, 
and full of sublime ideas. The figure of Death, the regal 
crown upon his head, his menace to Satan, his advancing to 
the combat, the outcry at his birth, are circumstances too no- 
ble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to 
this king of terrors. Spectator, N° 310. 

Aristotle observes, that the fable of an epic poem should 
abound in circumstances that are both credible and astonishing. 
Milton's fable is a master-piece of this nature; as the war in 
Heaven, the condition of the fallen angels, the state of inno- 
cence, the temptation of the serpent, and the fall of man, 
though they are very astonishing in themselves, are not only 
credible, but actual points of faith. Ibid. N° 315. 

The inconveniences of attendance on great men are more 
lamented than felt. To the greater number, solicitation is 
its own reward. To be seen in good company, to talk of 
familiarities of men in power, to be able to tell the freshest 
news, to gratify an inferior circle with predictions of increase 
or decline of favour, and to be regarded as a candidate for 
high offices, are compensations more than equivalent to the 
delay of favours, which, perhaps, he that asks them, has hardly 
the confidence to expect. Johnson, 

Let a man's innocence be what it will, let his virtues arise 
to the highest pitch of perfection attainable in this life, there 
will still be in him so many secret sins, so many human frailties, 
so many offences of ignorance, passion, and prejudice, so many 
unguarded words and thoughts, and, in short, so many de- 
fects in his best actions, that without the advantages of such 
an expiation and atonement as Christianity has revealed to 
us, it is impossible that he should be cleared before his sove- 
reign Judge, or that he should be able to stand in his sight. 

Spectator, N°513. 



110 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 

I would fain ask one of those bigotted infidels, supposing all 
the great points of atheism, as the casual or eternal formation 
of the world, the materiality of a thinking substance, thejmor- 
tality of the soul, the fortuitous organization of the body, the 
motion and gravitation of matter, with the like partculars, 
were laid together, and formed into a kind of creed, according 
to the opinions of the most celebrated atheists ; I say, sup- 
posing such a creed as this were formed and imposed upon 
any one people in the world, whether it would not require an 
infinitely greater measure of faith than any set of articles 
which they so violently oppose? Spectator, N° 168. 

Concluding Series. 

Our lives, says Seneca, are spent either in doing nothing at 
all, or in doing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing 
that we bughf to do. Ibid. N° 93. 

It was necessary for the world that arts should be invented 
and improved, books written, and transmitted to posterity, na- 
tions conquered and civilized. Ibid, N° 255. 

All other acts of perpetuating our ideas, except writing or 
printing, continue but a short time : statues can last but a few 
thousands of years, edifices fewer, and colours still fewer than 
edifices. Ibid. N° 166. 

This persuasion of the truth of the Gospel, without the 
evidence which accompanies it, would not have been so firm 
and so durable ; it would not have acquired new force with 
age, it would not have resisted the torrent of time, and have 
passed from age to age to our own days. 

Life consists, not of a series of illustrious actions, or ele- 
gant enjoyments ; the greater part of our time passes in com- 
pliance with necessities, in the performance of daily duties, 
in the removal of small inconveniences, in the procurement of 
petty pleasures. Johnson. 

A man has frequent opportunities of mitigating the fierceness 
of a party, of doing justice to the character of a deserving man, 
of softening the envious, quieting the angry, and rectifying the 
prejudiced; which are all of them employments suited to a 
reasonable nature, and bring great satisfaction to the person 
who can busy himself in them with discretion. Spectator. 

Though we seem grieved at the shortness of life in general, 
we are wishing every period of it at an end. The minor longs 
to be at age, then to be a man of business, then to make up an 
estate, then to arrive at honors, then to retire. Ibid. N° 93. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 1 1 1 

There is no blessing of life comparable to the enjoyment of 
a discreet and virtuous friend. It eases and unloads the mind, 
clears and improves the understanding, engenders thoughts and 
knowledge, animates virtue and good resolutions, and finds em- 
ployment for the most vacant hours of life. Spectator, N° 93. 

The devout man does not only believe, but feels there is a 
Deity ; he has actual sensations of him ; his experience con- 
curs with his reason : he sees him more and more in all his in- 
tercourses with him ; and even in this life almost loses his faith 
in conviction. Ibid. N° 465. 

The ill-natured man, though but of equal parts with the 
good-natured man, gives himself a larger field to expatiate in ; 
he exposes those failings in human nature which the other 
would cast a veil over, laughs at vices which the other either 
excuses or conceals, falls indifferently upon friends or enemies, 
exposes the person who has obliged him, and, in short, sticks at 
nothing that may establish his character of a wit. Ibid. N° 169. 

For what can interrupt the content of the fair sex, upon whom 
one age has laboured after another to confer honours and accu- 
mulate immunities ? those, to whom rudeness is infamy, and 
insult is cowardice? whose eye commands the brave, and whose 
smile softens the severe? whom the sailor travels to adorn, the 
soldier bleeds to defend, and the poet wears out life to celebrate; 
who claim tribute from every art and science, and for whom 
all who approach them endeavour to multiply delights, without 
requiring from them any return but willingness to be pleased. 

Johnson, 

Nature has laid out all her art in beautifying the face; she 
has touched it with vermillion, planted in it a double row of 
ivory, made it the seat of smiles and blushes, lighted it up and 
enlivened it with the brightness of the eyes, hung it on each 
side with curious organs of sense, given it airs and graces that 
cannot be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing 
shade of hair as sets all its beauties in the most agreeable light. 

Spectator, N° y8. 

Nothing is more pleasant to the fancy, than to enlarge itself 
by degrees, in its contemplation of the various proportions 
which its several objects bear to each other, when it compares 
the body of man to the bulk of the whole earth, the earth to the 
circle it describes round the sun, that circle to the sphere of the 
fixed stars, the sphere of the fixed stars to the circuit of the whole 
creation, the whole creation itself to the infinite space that is 
every where diffused about it: or when the imagination works 
downward, and considers the bulk of a human body in respect of 
an animal a hundred times less than a mite, the particular limbs 



J 12 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

of such an animal, the different springs which actuate the limbs, 
the spirits which set these springs a-going, and the propor- 
tionable minuteness of these several parts, before they have 
arrived at their full growth and perfection. Spectator, N° 420. 

Should the greater part of the people sit down and draw up 
a particular account of their time, what a shameful bill would 
it be ! So much in eating, and drinking, and sleeping, beyond 
what nature requires ; so much in revelling and wantonness ; 
so much for the recovery of last night's intemperance ; so much 
in gaming, plays, and masquerades ; so much in paying and 
receiving formal and impertinent visits : so much in idle and 
foolish prating in censuring and reviling our neighbours; so 
much in dressing out our bodies and talking of fashions; and 
so much wasted and lost in doing nothing at all. Sherlock. 

Question and Anszver. 

When a speaker puts a question to himself, 
and immediately answers it, he becomes as it 
were two persons : and as in all interlocutory 
discourse, we find the person who questions and 
he who answers assume a somewhat different tone 
of voice, so a speaker, who assumes both these 
personages ought also to assume the different 
tones they make use of; that is, the question 
should be pronounced in a higher, a more open 
and declarative tone, and the answer, (after a 
long pause) in a lower, firmer, and more definite 
one. Such a distinction of voice is not only pro- 
per to distinguish the sense of each sentence, 
and to keep them from blending together, and 
confusing the thought, but it gives a more em- 
phatic turn to the meaning, and gratifies the ear 
by its variety. This figure of speaking is ofteu 
adopted by the best orators, and merits careful 
attention in pronouncing it. Thus Cicero, in 
his oration for Muraena, makes use of this figure, 
where he says — 

But to return to what I proposed ; away with the name 

of Cato from this dispute; away with all authority, which in a 



RHETORICAL GRAMMA^. 113 

court of justice ought to have no other influence but to save. 
Join issue with me upon the crimes themselves. What is 
your charge, Cato ? What is to be tried ? What do you offer 
evidence of? Do you impeach corruption ? 1 do not defend 
it. Do you blame me for defending, by my pleading, what 
I punished by law ? I answer, that I punished corruption and 
not innocence; as to corruption, if you please, I will go 
hand in hand with yourself in impeaching it. 

In pronouncing this passage, we may observe 
that the answers / do not defend it — I anszver, 
that I punish corruption and not innocence, 
ought to be preceded by a long pause, and pro- 
nounced in a lower tone of voice than the ques- 
tions to which they relate. 

We have another example of this figure in 
his oration for Caslius : 

The charge of poisoning now only remains to be discussed: 
of which I can neither see the foundation, nor unravel the de- 
sign. For what reason could Coelius have to endeavour to 
poison that lady? That he might not pay back the gold? 
Pray did she demand it? To avoid the discovery of his guilt? 
But who charged him ? Who would even have mentioned it, 
had not Caelius impeached a certain person. 

In this passage we find one question answered 
by another; and that question in the first in- 
stance, Pray did she demand it? requiring the 
rising inflexion at the end. In this case, how- 
ever, notwithstanding the question ends with the 
rising turn of voice, the whole must be pro- 
nounced in a lower tone than the question which 
precedes it. 

But one of the most animated figures of this 
kind we find in his oration for Milo : 

Were the situation of things to be expressed in painting in- 
stead of words, you might then distinguish the traitor from 
the undesigniDg person : as the one was sitting in his chariot, 
wrapped up in his cloak, and his wife by his side ; it is hard to 
say if the cloak, the chariot, or the companion, was the great- 
est impediment to such an intention. For what can carry less 
the appearance of a design to fight, than a man entangled 

I 



114 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

with a cloak, shut up in a chariot, and almost fettered by a 
wife? Now, my lords, survey Clodius first leaving his seat 
in a hurry. For what reason? In the evening. Upon what 
emergency ? Late. To what purpose, especially at this sea- 
son? He strikes off to Pompey's country-house. Why ? That 
he might visit Pompey? He knew he was at his seat by Al- 
bium. Was it to view his house? He had been in it a thou- 
sand times. Then what could be his motive for all this saun- 
tering and shifting ? Why, to loiter; to gain time, that he 
might be sure to be on the spot when Milo came up. 

The three first questions in this example have 
no answers, but are still to be pronounced in a 
higher tone of voice than the affirmative propo- 
sitions, In the evening, Late, He strikes off to 
Pompey* s country-house. But the succeeding 
questions have all answers, which must, after a 
considerable pause, adopt a lower tone of voice 
than the questions that precede them. 

Echo. 

I have adopted this name for want of a 
better to express that repetition of a word or 
thought, which immediately arises from a word 
or thought that preceded it. Thus Mr. Philips, 
in Chandler's Parliamentary Debates : 

Sir, I should be much surprised to hear the motion made by 
the honourable gentleman who spoke last but one, opposed by 
any member in this house. A motion, founded in justice, 
supported by precedent, and warranted by necessity. 

Here the word motion may be called the echo- 
ing word, which ought always to be pronounced 
as if marked with a note of admiration ; that is, 
with the rising inflexion in a high tone of voice, 
and a long pause after it, when it implies any 
degree of passion, as in this example. But when 
it is merely narrative or didactic, as in the fol- 
lowing passage : 

Tully was the first who observed, that friendship improves 
happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy and 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 115 

dividing of our grief; a thought, in which he hath been fol- 
lowed by all the essayers upon friendship that have written 
since his time. Sped. N° 68. 

Here the word thought ought to have the ris- 
ing inflexion, and a pause after it, but must not 
be in the high tone which the word motion in 
the former example required, as it is plain sedate 
reasoning, and totally devoid of passion. But 
in a speech of Mr. Pitt, before he was Lord 
Chatham, we find the echoing word require the 
same inflexion and pause as in the last example, 
but accompanied with the high impassioned 
tone heard in the first : 

I cannot say, Sir, which of these motives influence the ad- 
vocates of the bill before us ; a bill in which such cruelties are 
proposed as are yet unknown amongst the most savage nations; 
such as slavery has not yet borne or tyranny invented ; such 
as cannot be heard without resentment, nor thought without 
horror. Chandler's Debates, 1740. 

But the most beautiful example of this figure, 
in our, or perhaps in any other language, is that 
we meet with in Hannah More's Strictures on 
Female Education. Speaking on dissipation and 
the modern habits of life, and particularly on 
the spirit of gaming, she says, — 

With " mysterious reverence" I forbear to descant on those 
serious and interesting rites, for the more august and solemn 
celebration of which Fashion nightly convenes these splendid 
myriads to her more sumptuous temples. Rites! which, when 
engaged in with due devotion, absorb the whole soul, and 
call every passion into exercise, except those indeed of love 
and peace, and kindness and gentleness. Inspiring rites ! 
which stimulate fear, rouse hope, kindle zeal, quicken dul- 
ness, sharpen discernment, exercise memory, inflame curio- 
sity ! — Rites ! in short, in the due performance of which, all 
the energies and attentions, all the powers and abilities, all the 
abstractions and exertion, all the diligence and devotedness, 
all the sacrifice of time, all the contempt of ease, all the neg- 
lect of sleep, all the oblivion of care, all the risks of fortune 
(half of which, if directed to their true objects, would change 
the very face of the world), all these are concentrated to one 
point : a point ! in which the wise and the weak, the learned 

I 2 



116 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 

and the ignorant, the fair and the frightful, the sprightly and 
the dull, the rich and the poor, the patrician and plebeian meet 
in one common uniform equality : an equality ! as religiously 
respected in these solemnities, in which all distinctions are 
levelled at a blow, and of which the very spirit is therefore 
democratical, as it is combated in all other instances. 

This passage is at once a brilliant example of 
the echo and the series; and one hardly knows 
which to admire most, the beautiful structure of 
the sentences, the varied and animated imagery 
of the thought, or the philosophical justness of 
the moral sentiment. 

In pronouncing this beautiful passage, the 
word Rites must become more emphatical with 
the rising inflexion every time it is repeated, and 
the pauses after it longer. The words point and 
equality ought to have the same pause and in- 
flexion, and the several serieses to be pronounced 
according to the rules under that head, page 113. 

Cicero pleading before Caesar for king Dejo- 
tarus, says, — 

What shall I say of his courage, what of his magnanimity, 
his gravity, his firmness ? Qualities ! which all the wise and 
learned allow to be the greatest, and some the only blessings 
of life, and which enable virtue not only to enjoy comfort 
but happiness. 

Again, pleading for the same client, he 
says, — 

The man then who was not only pardoned but distinguish- 
ed by you with the highest honours, is charged with an inten- 
tion to kill you in his own house. An intention, of which, 
unless you imagine that he is utterly deprived of reason, you 
cannot suspect him. 

Here the words qualities and intention require 
the rising inflexion, with a long pause after 
them, accompanied with a considerable degree 
of admiration and surprise. 

The same pause, inflexion of voice, surprise, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 117 

and admiration, must accompany the word laws, 

in the following passage in his first oration 

against Antony. 

By the dead are the banished recalled. By the dead are 
the privileges of Rome bestowed, not on private persons only, 
but upon whole nations and provinces. By the dead, mem- 
bers of corporations have their tribute remitted. We there- 
fore confirm whatever, upon a single but unquestionable evi- 
dence, has been produced from this house ; and shall we think 
of ratifying the acts of Ctesar, yet abolish his latvs? Those 
laws which he himself, in our sight, repeated, pronounced, en- 
acted ? Latvs which he valued himself upon passing ? Laws 
in which he thought the system of our government was com- 
prehended ? Latvs which concern our provinces and our trials ? 
Are we, I say, to repeal such laws, yet ratify his acts ? Yet 
may we at least complain of those which are only proposed; 
as to those which we pass we are deprived even of the liberty 
to complain. 

In pronouncing this passage, it ought to be 
observed, that the echoing word laws ought to 
be pronounced with increasing force upon every 
repetition, which will give it a climax of im- 
portance, and greatly add to the variety of it. 
This mode of pronunciation will be more pecu- 
liarly proper upon the same word in another 
passage in his oration against Pi so. 

During all this time, who ever heard you, I will not say 
act or remonstrate, but so much as speak or complain ? Can 
you imagine yourself to have been a consul, when, under your 
government, the man who had saved his country, who had 
saved the majesty of the senate, — when the man who had led 
in triumph into Italy, at three several times, the inhabitants of 
every quarter of the world, declared that he could not safely 
appear in public? Were you consuls at the time, when, as 
soon as you began to open your mouths upon any affair, or to 
make any motion in the senate, the whole assembly cried out, 
and gave you to understand, that you were not to proceed to 
business before you had put the question for my return; when, 
though fettered by the convention you had made, you yet 
told them, that you wished, with all your heart, that you were 
not bound up by law? A law, which did not appear to be 
binding upon private subjects; a latv, branded upon this con- 
stitution by the hands of slaves, engraved by violence, im- 
posed by ruffians; while the senate was abolished, all our pa- 



118 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

triots driven out of the Forum ; the republic in captivity ; a 
law, contradictory to all other laws, and passed without any 
of the usual forms. The consuls who could pretend they were 
afraid of such a law as this were ignorant of the laws, the in- 
stitutions and the rights, of that very state in which they pre- 
tended to a share of the government. 



Antecedent. 

Pronouns that are antecedents to some re- 
lative are often pronounced without accent, 
and by that means render the sense of the sen- 
tence feeble and indistinct. The antecedent and 
the relative are correspondent words, which 
ought to be distinctly, though not emphatically, 
marked, in order to show the precise meaning of 
a sentence. When pronouns are not antecedent 
to a relative, they are often pronounced without 
accent ; and as the words they refer to are suffi- 
ciently understood, this unaccented pronuncia- 
tion produces no obscurity. Thus in the fol- 
lowing sentence : 

He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, 
because he only believes that, after a short turn on the stage 
of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his con- 
sciousness for ever. 

Here the person spoken of is supposed to be 
understood, and there is no necessity of laying 
even accentual stress on the word he: but in 
the following sentence : 

He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, 
who only believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this 
world, he is to sink into oblivion, and lose his consciousness 
for ever. 

Here we find that pronoun he the antece- 
dent to the relative who, and perceive the ne- 
cessity of giving it an accent, and making a con- 
siderable pause after it. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 119 

When the relative immediately follows the 
antecedent, the antecedent requires an accent 
and pause after it in the same manner. 

He, that pursues fame with just claims, trusts his happi- 
ness to the winds; but he, that endeavours after it by false 
merit, has to fear, not only the violence of the storm, but the 
leaks of his vessel. Johnson. 

This passage will want much of its force and 
precision, if we do not lay an accent on the pro- 
noun he, and make a sensible pause after it. 

The same may be observed of the following 
sentence: 

He, that is loudly praised, will be clamourously censured ; 
he, that rises hastily into fame, will be in danger of sinking 
suddenly into oblivion. Ibid. 

An attention to the forea'oino* rule will direct 
us in some doubtful cases, and give a decision 
to what might otherwise appear equivocal. 
Thus, when Zanga, in the Revenge, is applaud- 
ing himself for his conduct, and apologising for 
the obliquity of it, he says, — 

And greater sure my merit, w ho, to gain 
A point sublime, could such a task sustain. 

It has already been observed, that when the 
pronoun my is in opposition to any other pos- 
sessive pronoun, it is emphatical, and requires 
the sound rhyming with high* In this instance 
perhaps, it may be said that my is emphatical, as 
it points out the person of the speaker in contra- 
distinction from every other, and therefore re- 
quires the open sound of y with a degree of 
force upon it ; and that who is here not deter- 
minate, but explicative ; that is, it does not ne- 
cessarily restrain the merit to him, because he 
acts in that manner, but only expatiates on the 
merit by way of supplement. This may possi- 
bly be the case ; but since the sense will admit 



120 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

of the who's being determinate, pronouncing 
the my with the emphatic sound takes away all 
doubt, and gives a completeness to the sense as 
well as plenitude to the sound of the line. 

There is the same necessity for accentual force 
and a pause, when the pronoun is in the objec- 
tive, as when it is in the nominative case. 

A man will have his servant just, diligent, sober, and chaste, 
for no other reason but the terrour of losing his master's favour, 
when all the laws divine and human cannot keep him whom 
he serves within bounds, with relation to any one of these 
virtues. Spectator, N° 202. 

This rule leads us to decide upon the pronun- 
ciation of the pronoun, when in the objective 
case, and when the relative to which it cor- 
responds is not expressed but understood. 

From what has been observed, we may con- 
clude that, whenever there is an antecedent and 
a relative, there is a necessary connexion, which 
requires the former always to have accentual 
force, to intimate that the relative is in view, and 
in some measure to anticipate the pronunciation 
of it. 



EXAMPLE. 

As folly and inconsiderateness are the foundations of infi- 
delity, the great pillars and supporters of it are either the 
vanity of appearing wiser than the rest of mankind, or an osten- 
tation of courage in despising the terrours of another world, 
which have so great an influence on what they call weaker 
minds ; or an aversion to a belief, which must cut them off 
from many of those pleasures they propose to themselves, and 
fill them with remorse for many of them they have already 
tasted. Sjjedator, N° 136. 

The antithesis in the latter part of this sen- 
tence may at first sight seem to require an em- 
phasis on them, as opposed to those pleasures they 
propose to themselves ; but if we examine the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 121 

state of the antithesis more narrowly, we shall 
find that the opposite parts will be sufficiently 
contrasted without a stress on them, since the 
sense would be perfect without this word ; but 
as there is a relative understood before the word 
they, we find the propriety of a stress on the an- 
tecedent them, in order to correspond to the el- 
liptical relative. 

Hannah More, whose language is so pointed 
and perspicuous, so rich and at the same time 
so correct, had less need, perhaps, than most 
writers to mark emphatical words in Italics; 
yet her knowledge of just pronunciation has in- 
duced her to mark an antecedent pronoun, that 
its correspondence with its relative might be 
sufficiently intimated. This occurs in a passage 
which contains perhaps, 

What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd. Pope, 

Thus the weakest reasoners are always the most positive in 
debate ; and the cause is obvious ; for they are unavoidably 
driven to maintain their pretensions by violence, who want 
arguments and reasons to prove that they are in the right. 

Strictures on Modern Female Education, vol. ii. p. 15. 

Variation. 

The causes of variety in reading and speak- 
ing are felt in their effects, but are very difficult 
to describe. The play of a melodious voice, 
from high to low, from loud to soft, or from 
quick to slow, charms us with the pleasing tran- 
sition from one to the other ; but affords so little 
ground for investigating the principles on which 
it depends, that the generality of writers on this 
subject content themselves with advising their 
readers to observe the best pronouncers, and to 
follow them as closely as possible. This advice 
is certainly very rational, though not very satis- 



122 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

factory. Rules are the soul of art and science ; 
and he who can trace one in an art which was 
supposed to be incapable of rules, has added 
something, however small, to the mass of gene- 
ral knowledge. A conviction of this has en- 
couraged me to offer a few rules for varying the 
voice in reading, by an attention to the inflexion 
of voice on certain parts of a sentence where at 
first sight there appears to be no necessity for 
any alteration of voice ; or if there were, that 
any such alteration is perfectly arbitrary : both 
these mistakes, however, will be rectified by at- 
tending to the pronunciation of the following 
sentence : 

When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by my- 
self in Westminster Abbey ; where the gloominess of the 
place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity 
of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, 
are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather 
thoughtfulness, that is not disagreeable. Spectator, N° 169. 

If the latter members of this sentence, which 
are very properly marked with commas, were all 
to have the same inflexion (or suspension of 
voice, as it is commonly called), the monotony 
would strike every one : but let the falling in- 
flexion be placed on place, building, and mind, 
and an agreeable variety will succeed the mono- 
tone, which will convince us that this variety 
arises from the regular variation of inflexion 
upon successive members of the sentence. 

Under the article series it has been seen how 
much force and variety arise from pronouncing 
the several successive members with an appro- 
priate inflexion of voice. It may in the same 
manner be observed,, that wherever similar mem- 
bers occur, though no more than three, a varia- 
tion of inflexion may be adopted with advantage. 
Thus, in the following example : 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 123 

Good nature is more agreeable in conversation than wit, 
and gives a certain air to the countenance, which is more ami- 
able than beauty. It shows virtue in the fairest light, takes off 
in some measure from the deformity of vice., and makes even 
folly and impertinence supportable. Spectator, N° 169. 

In the last sentence of this example, by placing 
the falling inflexion on light at the end of the 
first member, we shall diversify it from the next 
member,, which must have the rising, and so form 
an agreeable cadence. 

In the same manner, where there are three 
members in the former part of a sentence before 
the sense begins to form, the falling inflexion 
upon the antepenultimate member, as it may be 
called, will give an agreeable variety to the whole. 

The philosopher, the saint, or the hero; ihe wise, the good, 
or the great man ! very often lie hid and concealed in a ple- 
beian, which a proper education might have disinterred and 
have brought to light. Spectator, N° 215. 

Here, by placing the falling inflexion on hero, 
we shall diversify it from the rising on plebeian, 
and add considerably to the harmony of the ca- 
dence. 

It may be observed, when the principal con- 
structive member of a sentence extends to a con- 
siderable length before the sense begins to form, 
that, as soon as the sense begins to form, the 
voice ought to take every occasion of relieving 
the ear from the sameness which was necessary 
to connect the sense in the first member ; and 
for that purpose the falling inflexion should be 
adopted as soon as possible at the beginning of 
the second member, both in order to produce a 
variety and to form a cadence. 

As the noblest mien, or most graceful action, would be de- 
graded and obscured by a garb appropriated to the gross em- 
ployments of rustics or mechanics, so the most heroic senti- 
ments will lose their efficacy, and the most splendid ideas drop 



124 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

their magnificence, if they are conveyed by words used com- 
monly upon low and trivial occasions. Johnson. 

In this sentence, as the voice must preserve 
a sameness on the subordinate pauses till it 
comes to mechanics, where it adopts the rising 
inflexion and long pause, so it must adopt the 
falling inflexion on sentiments and ideas , to re- 
lieve the ear from that sameness, and form a 
cadence. 

Nearly the same observations hold good in the 
following sentence : 

As beauty of body, with an agreeable carriage, pleases the 
eye, and that pleasure consists in observing that all the parts 
have a certain elegance, and are proportioned to each other ; 
so does beauty of behaviour, which appears in our lives, ob- 
tain the approbation of all with whom we converse, from the 
order, consistency, and moderation of our words and actions. 

Spectator, N° 101. 

Here the sense extends to other before it be- 
gins to form, and consequently, the voice must 
be carried on with little variation till that word 
is pronounced with the rising inflexion and long 
pause; after which the voice must adopt the 
rising inflexion on beauty, and the falling on 
behaviour ; the falling both on approbation, and 
the word all ; when the cadence must be formed 
by the falling inflexion on order and consistency, 
the rising on moderation ; and the rising on 
words, and the falling on actions, the voice de- 
scending in a gradually lower tone. 

On the Period, and the Method of forming a 
Cadence. 

When a sentence is so far perfectly finished, 
as not to be connected in construction with the 
following sentence, it is marked with a period. 
This point is in general so well understood, that 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 125 

few grammarians have thought it necessary to 
give an express example of it ; though there are 
none who have inquired into punctuation who 
do not know, that in loose sentences the period 
is frequently confounded with the colon. But 
though the tone with which we conclude a sen- 
tence is generally well understood, we cannot 
be too careful, in pronunciation, to distinguish it 
as much as possible from that member of a sen- 
tence which contains perfect sense, and is usually 
pointed with a colon. Such members, which 
may not be improperly called sententiolce, or 
little sentences, require the falling inflexion, but 
in a higher tone than the preceding words, as if 
we had only finished a part of what we had to say; 
while the period requires the falling inflexion in 
a lower tone, as if we had nothing more to add. 
But this final tone does not only lower the last 
word ; it has the same influence on those which 
more immediately precede the last; so that the 
cadence is prepared by a gradual fall upon the 
concluding words, every word in the latter part 
of a sentence sliding gently lower till the voice 
drops upon the last. This will more evidently 
appear upon repeating the following sentence. 

This persuasion of the truth of the Gospel, without the 
evidence which accompanies it, would not have been so firm 
and so durable : it would not have acquired new force with 
age ; it would not have resisted the torrent of time, and have 
passed from ;\ge to age to our own days. 

We find perfect sense formed at the word 
durable; but as this does not conclude the sen- 
tence, these words, though adopting the falling 
inflexion, are pronounced in a higher tone than 
the rest : the same may be observed of the word 
age, which ends the second member; while in 
the last member not only the word days is pro- 
nounced lower than the rest, but the whole mem* 



126 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ber falls gradually into the cadence, and have 
passed from age to age to our own days. 

Let us take another example : 

It was said of Socrates, that he brought philosophy down 
from Heaven to inhabit among men; and I shall be ambitious 
to have it said of me, that I have brought philosophy out of clo- 
sets and libraries, schools and colleges, to dwell in clubs and as- 
semblies, at tea-tables and in coffee-houses. Spectator, N° 10. 

When this sentence is properly read, every ear 
will perceive a peculiar harmony in the cadence, 
but few will judge from whence it proceeds. 
If we analyse it, we shall see that four accented 
words are contrasted with other four, and that 
the inflexions on each are in an exactly opposite 
order. This number of accented words, and this 
order of the inflexions, is so agreeable to the ear, 
that a judicious reader will endeavour to fall into 
it as often as the sense will permit him, as in the 
preceding example ; and if the sense will only 
allow him four accented words, as in the follow- 
ing example, he will be sure to preserve the 
same arrangement of inflexions. 

Nature seems to have designed the head as the cupola to 
the most glorious of her works : and when we load it with 
such a pile of supernumerary ornaments, we destroy the sym- 
metry of the human figure, and foolishly contrive to call off 
the eye from great and real beauties, to childish gewgaws, 
ribbons, and bone-lace. Spectator, N° 98. 

In pronouncing this finishing sentence of the 
essay, we ought to begin the cadence after the 
word figure : then to let the voice play up and 
down upon the words foolishly and contrive, call 
off, and the eye ; that is, to give foolishly the rising 
and contrive the falling inflexion — the words call 
off the rising, and the eye the falling: then the 
last member after beauties, consisting of four ac- 
cented words, should have the two inflexions ar- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 127 

ranged as they are in the example; that is fall- 
ing, rising, rising, falling, and these to be pro- 
nounced in a gradually descending tone till the 
close of the sentence. 

But here it will be absolutely necessary to ob- 
serve that though the period generally requires 
the falling inflexion, every period does not ne- 
cessarily adopt this inflexion in the same tone of 
voice; if sentences are intimately connected in 
sense, though the grammatical structure of each 
may be independent on the other, they may not 
improperly be considered as so many small sen- 
tences making one large one, and thus requiring 
a pronunciation correspondent to their logical 
dependance on each other : hence it may be 
laid down as a general rule, that a series of pe- 
riods in regular succession are to be pronoun- 
ced as every other series; that is, if they follow 
each other regularly as parts of the same ob- 
servation they are to be pronounced as parts, and 
not as wholes. 

EXAMPLES. 

Some men cannot discern between a noble and a mean ac- 
tion. Others are apt to attribute them to some false end or 
intention, and others purposely misrepresent or put a wrong 
interpretation on them. Spectator, N u c 255. 

Though the first part of this passage is marked 
with a period in all the editions of the Spectator 
I have seen, nothing can be plainer than that it 
ought to be pronounced as the first member of 
the concluding series of three compound mem- 
bers. See article, Compound Series. 

Thus, although the whole of life is allowed by every one 
to be short, the several divisions of it appear long and tedious. 
We are for lengthening our span in general, but would fain 
contract the parts of which it is composed. The usurer 
would be very well satisfied to have all the time annihilated 
that lies between the present moment and next quarter- day. 
The politician would be contented to lose three years in his 



128 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

life, could he place things in the posture which he fancies 
they will stand in after such a revolution of time. The minor 
would be glad to strike out of his existence all the moments 
that are to pass away before he comes of age. Thus as fast 
as our time runs, we should be very glad, in most part of our 
lives, that it ran much faster than it does. 

Spectator y N° 93. 

Though here are no less than six periods in 
this passage, and every one of them requires the 
falling inflexion, yet the voice ought not to fall 
into a lower tone till the last sentence but one, 
where the words, before he comes of age, must fall 
gradually to the end. But in order to give va- 
riety, and form a cadence, the last sentence must 
be pronounced in a different manner from the 
rest, that is, the whole in a lower tone, with the 
last member falling gradually, and the different 
slides on the several words, as marked in the 
example. As the last of these sentences which 
forms the cadence does not fall into the same 
accentual portions as in the examples, page 125, 
126, the inflexions are repeated in the same or- 
der upon the four last as on the four first words, 
and the last member adopts the same order of in- 
flexions as in the series. See Elements of Elocu- 
tion, page 113. 

On Accented Force. 

By accent is generally and justly understood 
a greater force on one syllable of a word than on 
another ; but whether this force was pronounced 
in a higher, or only in a louder tone, was unde- 
cided, till, by distinguishing the voice into its 
two inflexions the accented syllable was found to 
be always louder, and either higher or lower than 
the rest of the syllables, according to the inflex- 
ion with which the accent was pronounced*. 
* See Elements of Elocution, p. 186. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 129 

The seat of the accent, or that syllable in a word 
which has a right to it, in preference to the rest, 
is decided by custom, and does not form any 
part of the present inquiry. The question here 
discussed is, What is the nature of that force on 
a certain syllable of a word,, which word cannot 
properly be called emphatical ? Thus in the fol- 
lowing sentence,, 

Evil communication corrupts integrity, 

not a single word is emphatical. Every word is 
pronounced with an equal degree of force, and 
every word has one accented syllable pronounced 
evidently louder than the rest. But in the fol- 
lowing sentence : 

Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being 
eminent ; 

— in the pronunciation of this sentence, I say, 
we find the words in Italics pronounced with an 
equal degree of force, but that the others sink 
into a feebleness, distinguishable by the dullest 
ear. If we inquire what degree of feebleness it 
is which these words fall into, we shall find it to 
be exactly that which is given to the unaccented 
syllables of the words cetisure, public and emu 
next : so that if we consider the words in Roman 
letters as unaccented syllables of the others, and 
joined to them as such, we shall have a precise 
idea of the comparative force of each. Let us, 
for example, suppose them written in the manner 
following : 

Censure isthetax amanpays tothepiiblic forbeingeminent ; 

and we find we have a precise and definite idea 
of the two forces, and need not recur to the 
common vague direction of " pronouncing some 
words more forcibly, but not so as to deprive 
the rest of all force : " — the forces of these two 



130 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

kinds of words are as much settled as the two 
kinds of force on accented and unaccented syl- 
lables., and these are sufficiently understood by 
all who have the gift of speech. 

The first obvious distinction, therefore, be- 
tween the sounds of words, with respect to force, 
is, into accented and unaccented ; and while we 
know what force we ought to give to the unac- 
cented syllables of a word, we can be at no 
loss for the force on unaccented words ; and we 
need but consider these words as the unaccented 
syllables of the others, to pronounce them pro- 
perly. 

On Emphatic Force. 

Emphatic force, or that force we give to 
words either placed in opposition to other words, 
or suggesting such an opposition, — this force, I 
say, is not quite so definite as the force of ac- 
cent : very luckily, however, the degree of em- 
phatic force is not so essential to emphasis, as 
the degree of accented force is to accented 
words : if we pronounce the smaller and less 
important words of a sentence with the same 
force we do the more significant words, we shall 
soon find that accent is of much more import- 
ance to the sense than emphasis. Let us, for 
example, pronounce every word in the forego- 
ing sentence (where there is no emphatic word) 
with an equal degree of force, and we shall find 
they want that light and shade which are neces- 
sary to forma strong picture of the thought. On 
the contrary, let us preserve the proper inflexions 
upon the accented syllables of emphatic words, 
and we shall find the sense fully and clearly 
brought out, without any more force upon these 
words than is given to the other accented words, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 131 

which are not emphatical. Thus, in the follow- 
ing sentence,, 

The corruption of the best things, produces the worst. 
we find the two words best and worst are in op- 
position to each other, and are therefore empha- 
tical; but in order to express this emphasis, we 
do not find ourselves under the least necessity of 
pronouncing these words louder or more forcibly 
than the words corruption and produces. The 
word things indeed must necessarily be pro- 
nounced feeble,, like an unaccented syllable of 
the word best ; and it is on this feebleness of the 
word, which belongs to both parts of the empha- 
sis, that the emphatic sense depends much more 
than on the force which is given to the emphatic 
words themselves. Let us try to illustrate this 
by examples. 

Prosperity gains friends, and adversity tries them. 

In this sentence we find the force of the empha- 
tic words depends entirely on the feebleness with 
which we pronounce the words common to both 
parts of the antithesis : for if, instead of pro- 
nouncing the words friends and them as unac- 
cented syllables of gains and tries, we should 
give them the same force we do to the latter 
words, the emphasis and meaning of the sen- 
tence would be entirely lost. Let us take an- 
other example. 

I do not so much request as demand your attention. 

Here the words your attention may be called the 
elliptical words: for it is by ellipsis only that 
they are omitted after request : and these words 
must necessarily be pronounced like unaccented 
syllables of the word demand, or the sentence 
will be deprived of its energy. If we pronounce 
these words feebly, the words request and de* 

k 2 



132 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

mand may only have common accented force, 
and yet the emphatic sense of the sentence will 
be very perceptible ; but if we pronounce your 
attention with as much force as the words request 
and demand, let us increase the force on these 
latter words as much as we please, we shall find 
it impossible to make the sentence emphatical. 

Thus we see, that pronouncing the elliptical 
words feebly, and as if they were only unac- 
cented syllables of those to which they belong, 
is of much more importance to the sense of a 
sentence than anv additional force on the em- 
phatic word. If it be demanded what is the de- 
gree of force we must give to emphatic words, 
when we do bestow this force on them, it may 
be answered, that this will in a great measure 
depend on the degree of passion, with which the 
words are expressed ; but if we have merely an 
eye to the expression of the sense, (for express- 
ing the sense of a passage, and expressing the 
passion of it, are very different things) we may 
make the force of the emphatic words exceed 
that of the accented words as much as the ac- 
cented force exceeds the unaccented. 

Having thus shown the nature of accent and 
emphasis, as they are two species of force, and 
endeavoured to evince the necessity of attending 
more to the inflexion of the accent than to any 
greater degree of force upon it; I shall, in the 
next place, give a concise view of the cause of 
emphasis, or that particular meaning in the 
words which requires a more than common force 
in the pronunciation of them. 

What it is that constitutes Emphasis. 

In every assemblage of objects, some will ap- 
pear more worthy of notice than others. In every 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 13* 

assemblage of ideas, which are pictures of these 
objects, the same difference will certainly reign 
among them; and in every assemblage of words, 
which are pictures of these ideas, we shall find 
some of more importance than others. It is the 
business of a speaker to mark this importance, 
and, consequently, a good speaker will make his 
pronunciation an exact picture of the words. 
The art of speaking then must principally con- 
sist in arranging each word into its proper class 
of importance, and afterwards giving it a suit- 
able pronunciation. We have seen, in the last 
article, that the prepositions, conjunctions, and 
smaller words, are generally pronounced like 
unaccented syllables of the nouns, verbs, and 
participles, to which they belong ; and that 
these are sometimes pronounced more or less 
forcibly, according to the peculiar meaning an- 
nexed to them. 

Now what is this peculiar meaning in words, 
which requires a more than ordinary force in 
pronouncing them, and properly denominates 
them emphatical ? This question, however dif- 
ficult it may appear at first sight, may be an- 
swered in one word, — opposition. Whenever 
words are contrasted with, contradistinguished 
from, or opposed to, other words, they are al- 
ways emphatical. When both parts of this op- 
position or contrast are expressed, the emphatic 
words become very obvious; as in the following 
passage from Pope : 

'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill 
Appear in writing or in judging ill : 
But of the two, less dangerous is th* offence 
To tire our patience, than mislead our sense ; 
Some^etu in that, but numbers err in this ; 
Ten censure wrong, for one who writes amiss. 

In this passage, every word in Italics may be 
said to be emphatical; as every one of these 



134 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

words is opposed to some other word, as to its 
correlative or correspondent word. In the se- 
cond line judging is opposed to writing ; in the 
fourth, mislead is opposed to tire, and sense to 
patience ; in the fifth, few is opposed to numbers, 
and this to that ; as in the last one, one is op- 
posed to ten, and writes to censure; wrong and 
amiss being only two words for exactly the same 
idea, have no opposition to each other, and there- 
fore cannot be emphatical. 

But when the opposition, in which emphasis 
consists, is elliptical ; that is, when but one part 
of the antithesis is expressed, and the other is to 
be supplied by the understanding, and made out 
by the pronunciation; when this is the case, I 
say, the emphatic word is not so easily discover- 
ed. Here then we must have recourse to the 
general import of the sentence ; and whatever 
word we suppose to be emphatical, must be 
tried, by pronouncing it more forcibly than the 
rest of the words ; and if this pronunciation 
suggests a phrase, which, if inserted in the sen- 
tence, would explain and illustrate it, we may 
be sure that word is emphatical. Let us try to 
make this clear by examples. 

And if each system in gradation roll, 
Alike essential to th* amazing whole; 
The least confusion but in one, not all 
That system only, but the whole must fall. 

In the third line of this passage, we find an un- 
common effort in the author to express " the 
strong connections, nice dependencies" of one 
part of the general system upon another : and, 
if we lay a strong emphasis on the word one, we 
shall find this connection and dependency very 
powerfully enforced ; for it will suggest this an- 
tithesis : " the least confusion, not in several or 
a great many parts of the universe, but even in 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 135 

one, would bring confusion on the whole." This 
paraphrase we not only find consistent with the 
sense of the poet, but greatly illustrative of it : 
and hence we may determine the word one to be 
emphatical. 

Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard affords 
us another striking instance of emphasis, where 
only one part of the antithesis is expressed. 
The writer is foretelling what some hoary-headed 
swain will say of him when he lies numbered 
among the unhonoured dead. 

One morn I miss'd him on th' accustom'd hill, 

Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree ; 
Another came, nor yet beside the rill, 

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he. 
The next with dirges due, in sad array, 

Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne ; 
Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay, 

Grav'd on the stone : beneath yon aged thorn. 

Here the words, thou canst are emphatical, as 
they are evidently opposed to I cannot, which 
are understood ; a very beautiful way of hinting 
the simplicity of the swain from his ignorance of 
the written characters of his language. 

In these instances, the opposition suggested by 
the emphatical word is sufficiently evident ; in 
other cases, perhaps, the antithesis is not quite so 
obvious; but if an emphasis can be laid on any 
word, we may be assured that word is an anti- 
thesis with some meaning agreeable to the gene- 
ral sense of the passage. 

To illustrate this, let us pronounce a line of 
Marcus, in Cato, where, expressing his indigna- 
tion at the behaviour of Caesar, he says, 

I'm tortur'd ev'n to madness when I think of the proud 
victor, — 

and we shall find the greatest stress fall naturally 
on that word, which seems opposed to some 



136 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

common or general meaning ; for the young 
hero does not say, in the common and unempha- 
tic sense of the word think, that he is tortured 
even to madness when he thinks on Caesar, but 
on the strong and emphatic sense of this word, 
which implies not only <c when I hear or dis- 
course of him, but even when I think of him, 
I'm tortured even to madness." 

As the word think therefore rises above the 
common level of signification, it is pronounced 
above the common level of sound : and as this 
signification is opposed to a signification less 
forcible, the word may be properly said to be 
emphatical. For we must carefully remember, 
that emphasis is that stress we lay on words which 
are in opposition or contradistinction to other 
words, expressed or understood. 

For a more exact idea of the nature of empha- 
sis, See Elements of Elocution : Introduction to 
the Theory of Emphasis, page 189. 

On the different Forces of Emphatic Words. 

It is impossible not to have observed in the 
last article, that the emphatic words of the lat- 
ter kind, where but one part of the antithesis is 
expressed, are pronounced much more forcibly 
than thpse where both parts of the antithesis are 
laid down, and the opposition appears at full 
length. The reason seems to be this : as empha- 
sis always implies opposition, either expressed 
or understood, when this opposition is expressed 
it is sufficiently obvious, and needs not a more 
forcible pronunciation than accented words 
to make it perceived ; but when only one em- 
phatic word is expressed, and the other under- 
itood, it is necessary to increase the force upon 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 137 

the word expressed, that what is in opposition 
to it, and is not expressed, may become more ob- 
vious and intelligible. 

If these observations are just, we see an evi- 
dent reason why most of those books which 
mark the emphatical words in Italics make al- 
most every significant word emphatical ; and 
why this practice is so much decried by others, 
as a useless multiplication of emphasis : — both 
these parties are in the right. The former per- 
ceiving great numbers of words in opposition to 
each other, very properly considered them as 
emphatical : and perceiving at the same time, 
that almost every substantive, adjective, and 
verb, had as much force in the pronunciation as 
these emphatical words, they knew not how to 
draw the line between them, and so marked 
them all indiscriminately as emphatical. The 
latter finding that very few words were pro- 
nounced more forcibly than the words we have 
just been describing, concluded that very few 
words were emphatical, because so few were to 
be pronounced more forcibly than the rest. 
Thus, for want of a distinction between the two 
kinds of emphatic words, neither party seems to 
have understood where the fault lay. 

It must be confessed, however, that the prac- 
tice of marking so many words in Italics, as em- 
phatical, without distinguishing between em- 
phasis expressed^ and emphasis understood : and 
without telling us precisely the degree of force 
to be given to the words unmarked, was a much 
greater source of errour than denying emphasis 
to such words as had no more force than com- 
mon substantives, adjectives, and verbs. The 
latter opinion would at least leave the under- 
standing to judge for itself, while the former 
would often mislead it. Marking every signifi- 



138 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

cant word as emphatical, tends greatly to give 
a turgid and bombastic pronunciation to com- 
mon words, at the same time that it lessens our 
attention to such as really deserve extraordinary 
force. This cannot be better explained than by 
quoting a passage from one of the best books of 
this kind, and making a few observations on it. 
The passage I intend to consider is the latter 
part of Pope's prologue to Cato, as I find it in 
the Art of Speaking, p. 86. 

Britons, attend ! be worth like this approvd, 
And show you have the virtue to be movd, 
With honest scorn the Jirst fam'd Cato view'd 
Rome learning arts from Greece, whom she subdiCd. 
Our scene precariously subsists too long 
On French translation and Italian song. 
Dare to have sense yourselves: assert the stage : 
'Be justly tuarm'd with your own native rage. 
Such plays alone should please a British ear, 
As Cato's selfh&di not disdained to hear. 

This passage is in general pretty accurately 
marked : but if we conceive the words in Ro- 
man letters to have exactly the same force as the 
unaccented syllables of the others, we shall soon 
see that many significant words are thrown too 
much into the shade. I know it will be said 
that these significant words, though they have 
not the force of the marked words, are still to 
have a sufficient degree of force to express their 
meaning. But this is the very errour I am com- 
bating: this is the vague indefinite rule that 
echoes through all our books of this kind : this 
is the old asylum of ignorance and idleness, the 
constant recourse of those who, for want of 
ideas, pay us with words. The truth is, we 
must necessarily give these words the same force 
as the other words, or only the force of unac- 
cented syllables ; between these two forces there 
is no medium. The line is drawn by nature be- 






RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 139 

tween accent and no accent ; and unless we stu- 
diously strive to do it, we cannot help striking 
the two forces in exact proportion to each other. 
If we pronounce the accented syllable stronger, 
the unaccented will be stronger likewise, and 
inversely. Those, therefore, who pronounce the 
accented syllable too feebly, will be too feeble in 
those that are unaccented : but we need only 
make them enforce the former, and the latter 
will be infallibly rectified. 



An Examination of the Propriety of marking the 
Words in the foregoing Passage. 

The word this, in the first line, is certainly 
entitled to as much force as worth and approved ; 
and show, in the next line, to as much as virtue 
and moved. Honest scorn, in the third line, is 
impassioned, and will admit of emphasis above 
the accented words, as it may, very agreeably 
to the sense, be supposed to have this anti- 
thesis : not merely with dislike, hut with scorn. 
The word first, in the same line, may be said to 
be emphatical in the same manner, as it points 
out Cato the Censor, in opposition to Cato of 
Utica, the hero of the prologue. In the fifth, 
the words precariously subsists must necessarily 
have more force than so many unaccented sylla- 
bles, and ought therefore to have been in Ita- 
lics, as well as the words too long. The sixth 
line needs no comment; every significant word 
is in opposition to another word, and is there- 
fore emphatical. But in the next line, the word 
yourselves, which is opposed to others, not ex- 
pressed (see pp. 132, 133, 134, &c.) and there- 
fore highly emphatical; this word, I say, is not 
distinguished from the word sense, or any other 



140 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

words that have common force, and is there- 
fore confounded with them : whereas this word 
ought to have as much more force than the ac- 
cented words as they have more than the un- 
accented. The next line affords us an errour 
of the same kind : the word native is empha- 
tical, as it is opposed to foreign, not express- 
ed, and Iherefore ought to have extraordinary 
force. The word rage, which is the elliptical 
word (see pp. 134, 135, 136, &c.) common both 
to foreign and native, ought no more to have the 
force of native, than if the antithesis had been 
expressed at length, in this manner : " Be justly 
warmed, not with foreign rage, but with jour 
own native rage : " nor can we possibly pro- 
nounce rage with the same force as native with- 
out depriving native of its emphasis. Let it 
not be objected that rage is too significant a 
word to be sunk into an unaccented syllable of 
native; for if native be pronounced with its pro- 
per force, rage, though unaccented, will be 
more forcible than an unaccented syllable of a 
merely accented word. The last line affords an 
opportunity of strengthening the former obser- 
vations, by some which are very similar, and 
founded on the same reasons. The word self, in 
this line, is highly emphatical, as such an em- 
phasis suggests this meaning: "Such plays 
alone should please a British ear, not only as a 
person of good sense and nice morals would 
approve, but such as even Cato himself would 
approve ;" for this meaning is not only agreeable 
to the sense of the author, but greatly enforces 
and illustrates it. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. HI 

A new method of marking the different Forces 
of Words. 

From the analysis given in the last Lesson of 
a passage from Pope, we plainly perceive how 
delicate a thing it is to mark the emphatic words 
properly, and how easily we may be misled by 
the generality of books in use. Advocate, there- 
fore, as I am for the occasional use of marks, I 
am far from recommending them on all occa- 
sions. Many things may be useful at certain 
times and on certain occasions, which, if used 
indiscriminately, would be incommodious and 
embarrassing. Dividing words of difficult pro- 
nunciation into syllables, may be sometimes use- 
ful, even to those who read well : but dividing 
every word into syllables, would be so far from 
assisting such a reader, that it would be the 
surest way to embarrass and perplex him. Italics, 
therefore, may be very usefully employed in 
printing to mark emphasis, where it is not ob- 
vious, or where the sense of a passage might be 
mistaken for want of knowing it : but where the 
language is plain, and the meaning obvious, Ita- 
lics are not only useless, but distressing to the 
reader. From the want of a clear idea of the 
nature of emphasis, and of the difference be- 
tween accented and unaccented force, those 
who mark books for pronunciation think they 
have never done enough, till they have put every 
single significant word into Italics. For as no 
distinction of force is settled between these 
words, and as every one is supposed to have a 
certain indefinite degree of force, the writer ima- 
gines he has done wonders in showing how 
much force a few words are susceptible of; and 
the reader, who is struck with the sight of so 
much force in so small a compass, has not the 



U2 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

least doubt of the emphasis of every one of these 
words, if he did but know how to pronounce 
them : thus,, by endeavouring to give every 
word an emphatic force, he deprives those words 
that are really emphatical of the force which be- 
longs to them, and distorts and adulterates the 
meaning by a quaint and unnatural pronuncia- 
tion. 

But had we once a clear and distinct idea of 
emphasis, did we consider how few words are 
so emphatical as to require a greater force than 
accented words, that every accented word has 
an equal degree of force, and that those that are 
not accented have exactly the force of unac- 
cented syllables ; with these principles in view, 
I say, we might construct a notation, which, it 
is presumed, would convey a clearer idea of the 
several forces of speaking sounds than any that 
has hitherto been hit upon. Let us, for exam- 
ple, take the foregoing passage from Pope ; let 
us consider the less significant words as unac- 
cented syllables of the others, and associate 
them together accordingly; and let us mark 
these words only, which have emphasis stronger 
than accent, with a different character : . 

Britons, attend! beworth likethis approv'd, 
Andshow youhavethevirtue tobemov'd. 
Withhonest scorn the/zrstfam'dCatoview'd 
Rome learningarts fromGreece, whomshesubdu'd. 
Owrscene precariously subsists too long 
OnFrench translation andltalian song. 
Dare tohavesenseyour.?e/t>6\s ; assert thestage ; 
Bejustly warm'd withyourown ?iativerage. 
Suchplays alone shouldplease aBritishe&v, 
AsCato's se//hadnotdisdain , d tohear. 

But if writing words in this manner should 
be found troublesome, or appear too much to 
disguise them, we need only put a hyphen be- 
tween the accented and unaccented words, and 






RH ETORIC AL GRAMMAR. 143 

the same effect will be produced; that is, the 
whole assemblage will seem but one word : by 
which means we shall have an exact idea of the 
relative force of each. Thus, the foregoing pas- 
sage may be marked in the manner following : 

Britons, attend ! be-worth like-this approv'd, 
And-show you-have-the-virtue tobe-mov'd. 
With-honest scorn the-first-fam'd-Cato-view'd 
Rome learning-arts from-Greece, whom-she-subdu'd. 
Our-scene precariously subsists too long 
On-French translation and-Italian song. 
Dare to-have-sense-yourse/t'es ; assert the-stage ; 
Be-justly warm'd with-your-own native-rage* 
Such-plays alone should-please a- British-ear, 
As-Cato's se//had-not-disdain'd to-hear. 

Let it not be imagined that this mode of print- 
ing is proposed as a model in all cases for teach- 
ing to read; no; such unusual combinations 
might, instead of improving some pupils, per- 
plex and retard them; but there are others, to 
whom this association may be highly useful in 
giving them a clear and distinct idea of the 
three kinds of force, of which all composition is 
susceptible; and this, it is presumed, is better 
performed by this than by any method hitherto 
made known to us. 



Another method of marking; the different Forces 
of Words. 

From the method of marking the words we 
have just proposed, it is impossible not to have 
taken notice of a circumstance which arises from 
it, and which, if properly attended to, will set 
the utility of this method in a still stronger light; 
and that is, the classification that necessarily fol- 
lows the uniting of unaccented words to those 
that are accented, as if they were syllables of 



144 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

them : this classification naturally divides a sen- 
tence into just so many portions as there are ac- 
cents. Thus, in the sentence before quoted. 

Prosperity | gains friends, | and adversity | tries them, 

there are four portions, and these portions to an 
ear unacquainted with the language would seem 
to be exactly so many words. Here then is a 
new principle of dividing sentences independent 
on the pauses, and which cannot fail to convey 
to us a clear idea of pronunciation. It has been 
before observed, that the emphasis which re- 
quires more force than the accented words but 
seldom occurs, and that when it does occur, the 
sense of the passage depends much more on the 
inflexion we give to the emphatic word, than on 
the force we pronounce it with. To these ob- 
servations it may be added, that, when there is 
no uncommon emphasis in a sentence, we may 
often pronounce it with more or fewer accents, 
without materially affecting the sense. Thus, in 
the following sentence, Pitch upon that course of 
life which is the most excellent, and custom zcill 
make it the most delightful — Spect. N° 447. the 
two words excellent and delightful are contrasted 
with each other, and therefore may be said to be 
emphatical: but the emphasis on these words, 
it is evident, requires no more force than several 
others in the sentence. Now this sentence, 
without any injury to the sense of it, may be 
pronounced only in four portions ; the four words 
that, excellent, custom, and delightful, having ac- 
cented force, and the rest unaccented; as if writ- 
ten in the following manner : 

Pitchuponthatcourseoflife | whichisthemostexcellent | 
and custom | willmakeitthemostdelightful. 

Or it may be pronounced in ten portions, with 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 145 

no other alteration in the sense than to render 
it upon the whole more sententious and empha- 
tic at, thus, 

Pitch | uponthat | course | ofi'ife | whichisthembst | 
excellent, | andcustom | willmakeit | themost | delightful. 

Where we see the sole difference between the 
former and latter pronunciation of this passage 
lies in giving accented force to four words in the 
one, and to ten in the other. 

It must not be imagined that these divisions 
always indicate pauses : no ; this distinction into 
portions is the separation of a sentence into its 
accentual impulses : and these impulses, though 
no pause intervenes, are as much distinguished 
by the ear as the portion separated by a pause. 
Thus the ear perceives as great a difference be- 
tween the first manner of pronouncing the words 
most, where they sound like unaccented sylla- 
bles of the words excellent and delightful, and the 
last where they have an independent accent, as 
it would do to have a pause inserted or omitted 
in any other part of the sentence. 

This classification of words seems pregnant 
with instruction : by applying it to sentences of 
difficult pronunciation, we give the pupil a dis- 
tinct idea of the different forces of words, and 
by these means convey to him that idea of them, 
which we think the best. Let us suppose we 
wanted to instruct a pupil in the true emphatic 
force of a passage in Pope's Essay on Man, 
where the poet is inquiring after happiness. 

Plant | of celestial | seed, | if drbpp'd | below, 
Say | in what mortal | soil | thou deign'st | to grow ? 
Fair bp'ning | to some court's propitious shrine, 
Or deep | with diamonds | in the flaming | mine ? 
L 



H6 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Twin'd | with the wreaths | Parnassian laurels yield, 
Orreap'd | in iron | harvests | of the field; 
Fix'd to no spot | is happiness | sincere, 
'Tis nowhere to be found, | or everywhere. 

If we wished to explain our sense of the man- 
ner in which this passage ought to be read, could 
we possibly take a better method than this of 
dividing it into such portions as are each of them 
pronounced like single words ? In this mode of 
marking the lines, each word has its degree of 
force settled by the easiest method in the world, 
that of accented or unaccented syllables; and if 
to these accents are added the slide, or inflexion, 
with which every accent is necessarily pro- 
nounced, we have a notation of speaking sounds 
that gives us as infallibly the leading notes of 
speech as the notes of music convey to us the 
tune of a song; the graces and beauties of sing- 
ing and speaking must be conveyed by the living 
voice to the ear, but this does not preclude in 
either the utility of marks to the eye. 

But though I would by no means recommend 
this association of words as a common lesson for 
youth, I am well persuaded that, on some occa- 
sions, it may be very useful to explain the pro- 
nunciation of some difficult passages by it. A 
youth will have a much clearer idea of the force 
he is to give to the subordinate words of a sen- 
tence, by considering them as syllables of the 
other words, than by any other explanation we 
can make use of: and in order to impress this 
idea, it may not be improper to write or mark 
phrases, with the words thus associated. 

Utility of understanding the different Slides, and 
different forces of J Fords. 

In the same manner I would recommend the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 147 

use of accents, to mark the different slides of the 
voice. Where the language is smooth, and the 
meaning* clear, any kind of marks would do 
more hurt than good ; but where the language 
is uncouth, and the meaning obscure, nothing 
can be more certain than the usefulness of some 
marks to direct the voice in the pronunciation. 
Let us illustrate this by some passages from Dr. 
Young. Speaking of the folly of those who de- 
lay an amendment of their lives, he says, 

How excellent that life they ne'er will lead ! 
Time lodg'd in their own hands is folly's vales; 
That lodg'd in fate's, to wisdom they consign : 
The things they can't but purpose they postpone. 

This passage will lose much of its clearness, and 
all its beauty, if the word fate's, in the third line, 
is not pronounced with the falling inflexion : 
this inflexion will strongly mark the folly of con- 
signing to wisdom, or using wisely, what is not 
in their own hands, but in the hands of fate. 

The two following lines in this passage afford 
another opportunity of showing how important 
to the sense is a particular inflexion on a parti- 
cular word. 

'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool ; 
And scarce in human wisdom to do more. 

If we do not give folly the emphasis with the 
falling inflexion, the thought will be scarcely 
intelligible. The same may be observed of the 
word themselves in the second line of the follow- 
ing passage : 

All men think all men mortal but themselves ; 
Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate 
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread. 

The following passage will afford an instance of 
l 2 



148 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the necessity of adopting the other inflexion on 
a particular word, in order to elucidate and fix 
the meaning. The poet, speaking of the original 
grandeur of the passions, says, 

What though our passions are run mad, and stoop 
With low terrestrial appetite, to graze 
On trash, on toys, dethron'd from high desire ; 
Yet still through their disgrace, no feeble ray 
Of greatness shines, and tells us whence they fell. 

If we do not give the word feeble the emphasis 
with the rising inflexion, we shall be led to sup- 
pose that not even a feeble ray of greatness 
shines : a sense directly contrary to the scope of 
the author. 

Milton, who, from his fondness for the ancients, 
frequently departs widely from the idiom of his 
own language, affords us frequent instances of 
the necessity of attending nicely to the inflexion 
of voice with which we read, in order to pre- 
serve his meaning. Thus, where he is describing 
the fallen angels as sensible of the misery of their 
state, while they are gathering round their leader, 
he says, 

Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 

In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel. 

The words not in this passage must necessarily 
have the emphasis with the rising inflexion, as 
this specific emphasis is the only way of render- 
ing the sense of the passage intelligible. 

As a further proof of the necessity of distin- 
guishing emphasis into two kinds, and of having 
a distinct and different mark for each, we need 
only attend to the pronunciation of the follow- 
ing passage from the same author, where he 
describes Satan's surprise at the sight and ap- 
proach of the figure of death. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 149 

Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
The monster moving, onward came as fast 
With horrid strides ; Hell, trembled as he strode. 
Th* undaunted fiend what this might be admir'd ; 
Admir'd, not fear'd : God, and his son except, 
Created thing nought valu'd he nor shunn'd; 
And, with disdainful look, thus first began. 

Par. Lost, b. ii. v. 671. 

There are few readers, who in pronouncing 
this passage, would not give admir'd, in the fifth 
line, the rising slide, and fear'd the falling: but 
nothing can be more evident than that this does 
not bring out the sense of the passage with half 
the force of a contrary position of the slides. 
The falling slide on admird, and the rising on 
fear'd, is agreeable to the general rule the ear 
always follows, in pronouncing positive and ne- 
gative members, when it is unembarrassed by 
the intricacies of poetic language. Thus we see 
it is of little consequence to tell us a word is em- 
phatical, unless the kind of emphasis is specified, 
and when this is done we find the sense of a 
passage is determined. 

I shall conclude these observations, on the 
utility of marks, by showing the very different 
sense of a sentence according to the different 
force and inflexion which is given to its several 
parts. When we take our leave of a person, we 
sometimes make use of the following sentence: 

I xvish you all the happiness this tvorld can afford. 

If we lay an equal stress upon the words xvish, 
all, happiness, this, world, and afford, and pro- 
nounce the rest like unaccented syllables of 
these, we shall find a sense implying that this 
world can afford great happiness; but if we lay 
an emphasis with the falling inflexion on all, 
and one with the rising on this, and pro- 
nounce the rest of the words like unaccented 



150 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

syllables of these,, as if they were written in the 
following manner: 

Iwishyoutf/fthehappiness | Mwworldcanafford : 
Or thus, 
I-wish-you-<z#-the-happiness | *Ms-world-can-afFord*. 

In this case, I say, we shall find a very different 
sense produced ; for it will strongly intimate that 
this world has very little happiness to afford. 

If these observations are just, we may per- 
ceive what great advantages we might reason- 
ably expect from such a knowledge of the voice 
as would enable us to comprehend and practise 
the distinction of force, and the two-fold distinc- 
tion of inflexions here laid down. We should 
then have a language in which we might con- 
verse intelligibly on different modes of pronun- 
ciation : we could tell the reader plainly and 
simply, that such words require one species of 
force and inflexion, and such words another, 
without having recourse to such vague and in- 
determinate directions as saying, that ec he must 
pronounce some words with emphasis, but not 
so as to deprive others of a certain degree of it." 
Whoever is curious to see the obscurity which 
a want of these distinctions occasions, may con- 
sult some of our best writers on this subject, 
where they dispute with each other about the 
pronunciation of certain passages. Here he may 
see how men may wrangle without end, and 
each seem to have the victory, when they neither 
understand each other, nor even themselves, for 
want of precise and definite terms. 

* In the first method of pronouncing this sentence, it seems 
to the ear to contain as many words as there are accents ; viz. 
six. In the last, the sentence seems to consist only of two 
very long words, because there are in reality no more than two 
accents in it. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 151 



RULES FOR READING VERSE. 

On the Slides or Inflexions of Verse. 

The first general rule for reading verse is, 
that we ought to give it that measured harmo- 
nious flow of sound which distinguishes it from 
prose, without falling into a bombastic, chant- 
ing pronunciation, which makes it ridiculous. 
This medium, like all others where excellence 
resides, is not very easy to hit ; and here, as in 
similar cases, the worst extreme must be avoid- 
ed. For this purpose, it will not be improper, 
before we read verse with its poetical graces, to 
pronounce it exactly as if it were prose : this will 
be depriving verse of its beauty, but will tend 
to preserve it from deformity : the tones of voice 
will be frequently different, but the inflexions 
will be nearly the same. 

But though an elegant and harmonious pro- 
nunciation of verse will sometimes oblige us to 
adopt different inflexions from those we use in 
prose, it may still be laid down as a good gene- 
ral rule, that verse requires the same inflexions 
as prose, though less strongly marked, and more 
approaching to monotones. If, therefore, we 
are at a loss for the true inflexion of voice on 
any word in poetry, let us reduce it to earnest 
conversation, and pronounce it in the most fa- 
miliar and prosaic manner, and we shall, for the 
most part, fall into those very inflexions we 
ought to adopt in repeating verse. 

This observation naturally leads us to a rule, 
which may be justly looked upon as the funda- 
mental principle of all poetic pronunciation : 
which is, that wherever a sentence, or member 
of a sentence, would necessarily require the fall- 



152 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ing inflexion in prose, it ought always to have 
the same inflexion in poetry ; for though, if we 
were to read verse prosaically, we should often 
place the falling inflexion where the style of 
verse would require the rising, yet in those 
parts where a portion of perfect sense, or the 
conclusion of a sentence, necessarily requires 
the falling inflexion, the same inflexion must be 
adopted both in verse and prose. Thus in 
Milton's description of the deluge, in Paradise 
Lost: 

Meanwhile the south-wind rose, and, with black wings 
Wide hov'ring, all the clouds together drove 
From under Heav'n: the hills, to their supply, 
Vapour and exhalation dusk and moist 
Sent up amain : and now the thicken'd sky 
Like a dark ceiling stood ; down rush'd the rain 
Impetuous, and continu'd till the earth 
No more was seen ; the floating vessel swam 
Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow 
Rode tilting o'er the waves. 

Par. Lost, b. xi. v. 738. 

In this passage, every member forming per- 
fect sense, if read as so many lines of prose, 
would end with the falling slide, and this is the 
slide they ought to end with in verse. The 
member, indeed, which ends with impetuous, 
ought to have the rising slide, because, though 
it forms perfect sense, it is followed by a member 
which does not form sense of itself, and for this 
reason would necessarily adopt the rising slide if 
it were prose. 

In the same manner, though we frequently 
suspend the voice by the rising inflexion in 
verse, where, if the composition were prose, we 
should adopt the falling, yet, wherever in prose 
the member or sentence would necessarily re- 
quire the rising inflexion, this inflexion must 
necessarily be adopted in verse. An instance of 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 153 

all these cases may be found in the following 
example from Pope : 

He, who through vast immensity can pierce, 
See worlds on worlds compose one universe ; 
Observe how system into system runs, 
What other planets circle other suns ; 
What varied being peoples ev'ry star ; 
May tell why Heav'n has made us as we are. 
But of this frame, the bearings, and the ties, 
The strong connections, nice dependencies, 
Gradations just, has thy pervading soul 
Look'd through ? or can a part contain the whole ? 

Is the great chain, that draws all to agree, 
And drawn supports, upheld by God or thee? 

rope's Essay on Man, 

If this passage were prose, every line but the 
fifth might end with the falling inflexion: but 
the fifth being that where the two principal con- 
structive parts unite, and the sense begins to 
form, here, both in prose and verse, must be the 
principal pause, and the rising inflexion. The 
two questions with which the ninth and tenth 
line end ought to have the rising inflexion also, 
as this is the inflexion they would necessarily 
have in prose; though from injudiciously print- 
ing the last couplet, so as to form a fresh para- 
graph, the word whole is generally pronounced 
with the falling inflexion, in order to avoid the 
bad effect of a question with the rising inflexion 
at the end of a paragraph ; which would be ef- 
fectually prevented by uniting the last couplet 
to the rest, so as to form one whole portion, 
and which was undoubtedly the intention of the 
poet. 

Having premised these observations, I shall 
endeavour to throw together a few rules for the 
reading of verse, ^hicb, by descending to par- 
ticulars, it is hoped will be more useful than 
those very general ones, which are commonly 



154 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

to be met with on this subject, and which, 
though very ingenious, seem calculated rather 
for the making of verses than the reading of 
them. 

Of the Accent and Emphasis of Verse, 

Rule I. In verse, every syllable must have 
the same accent, and every word the same em- 
phasis, as in prose : for though the rhythmical 
arrangement of the accent and emphasis is the 
very definition of poetry, yet, if this arrangement 
tends to give an emphasis to words which would 
have none in prose, or an accent to such sylla- 
bles as have properly no accent, the rhythmus, or 
music of the verse, must be entirely neglected. 
Thus the article the ought never to have a stress, 
though placed in that part of the verse where 
the ear expects an accent. 

EXAMPLE. 

Of all the causes which conspire to blind 

Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, 

What the weak head with strongest bias rules, 

Is pride, the never failing vice of fools. Pope. 

An injudicious reader of verse would be very 
apt to lay a stress upon the article the in the 
third line, but a good reader would neglect the 
stress on this, and transfer it to the words xvhat 
and weak. Thus also, in the following exam- 
ple, no stress must be laid on the word of be- 
cause we should not give it any in prosaic pro- 
nunciation. 

Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are made 

Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade. Pope. 

For the same reason the word as 9 either in the 
first or second line of the following couplet, 
ought to have no stress. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 155 

Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, 

And catch the manners living as they rise. Pope, 

The last syllable of the word excellent, in the 
following couplet, being the place of the stress, 
is very apt to draw the reader to a wrong pro- 
nunciation of the word, in compliance with the 
rhythmus of the verse. 

Their praise is still, the style is excellent ; 

The sense they humbly take upon content. Pope, 

But a stress upon the last syllable of this word 
must be avoided, as the most childish and ridicu- 
lous pronunciation in the world. The same 
may be observed of the word eloquence and the 
particle the in the following couplet : 

False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 

Its gaudy colours spreads on ev'ry place. Pope, 

If, in compliance with the rhythmus, or tune of 
the verse, we lay a stress on the last syllable of 
eloquence, and on the particle the in the first of 
these verses, to a good judge of reading scarcely 
any thing can be conceived more disgusting. 



When the Poetical Accent is to be preserved, and 
when not. 

Rule II. One of the most puzzling varieties 
in reading verse is that which is occasioned by 
the poet's placing a word in such a part of the 
line as is quite inconsistent with the metre of the 
verse. It is one of the most general rules in 
reading, that every word is to have the same ac- 
cent in verse, that it has in prose. This rule, 
however, admits of some few exceptions. Many 
of our good poets have sometimes placed words 
so unfavourably for pronunciation in tjie common 
way, that the ear would be less disgusted with 



156 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

an alteration of the common accent for the sake 
of harmony, than with a preservation of this 
accent with harshness and discord; for, in some 
cases, by preserving the common accent, we not 
only reduce the lines to prose, but to very harsh 
and disagreeable prose. Thus we cannot hesi- 
tate a moment at placing the accent on the first 
syllable of expert, in the following line of Pope, 
though contrary to its prosaic pronunciation : 

Then fell Scamandrius, expert in the chase. 

But it will be demanded, is the ear the only rule 
when we are to pronounce one way and when 
another ? It may be answered ; this is the best 
rule for those who have good ears ; but like most 
of the rules given on this subject, it amounts to 
no rule at all. To offer something like a rule 
therefore, where there is none, will not be unac- 
ceptable to those at least who have not ears suf- 
ficiently delicate to direct themselves, and those 
who have will not be displeased to find a rea- 
son given for such a choice of accent as they 
approve. 

And first, let us try the different effects which 
these disjointed and inharmoniously accented 
words have on the ear (for unquestionably they 
are not all equally disagreeable), and that per- 
haps may lead us to something like a rule for 
directing us when we are to comply with the 
poetical accent, and when not. 

In the first place, let us bring together words 
of two syllables, with the accent on the first, 
which the poet has transferred to the last. 

Who now triumphs in th'excess of joy — P. L. i. 123. 

In their triple degree, regions to which Ibid. xi. 140. 

Which of uj who beholds the bright surface. Ibid. vi. 472. 

Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate. Ibid. 841 . 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 157 

Male he created thee : but thy consort, — P. L. vii. 529. 
Not to incur; but soon his clear aspect. Ibid. 336. 

Beyond all past example and future. Ibid. 840. 

To do ought good never will be our task. Ibid. i. 159. 

Moors by his side under the lee, while night — Ibid. 207. 
Abject and loss lay these covering the flood. Ibid. 312. 
Gods, yet confess'd later than Heav'n and earth. Ibid. 509. 
These other two equalled with me in fate. Ibid. iii. 33. 
And flow'rs aloft shading the fount of life. Ibid. 357. 

Second to thee offered himself to die. Ibid. 409. 

Which, tasted, works knowledge of good and evil. lb. vii. 543. 
To whom with healing words, Adam replied. Ibid. ix. 2<K). 
Grateful to Heav'n; over his head behold. Ibid, 864. 

Preserving the poetical accent on many of these 
words would be merely turning them into ridi- 
cule, and therefore, every reader who has the 
least delicacy of feeling will certainly preserve 
the common accent of these words on the first 
syllable, and let the metre of the line shift for 
itself. 

In the next place, let us adduce such words 
of two syllables as have a contrary transposition 
of accent, that is, such as have the common ac- 
cent on the last syllable, which the poet removes 
to the first. 

Next Chernov i\i obscene dread of Moab's sons. P.L.'u 123. 
And sat as princes, whom the supreme king. Ibid. 735. 
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing. Ibid. ii. ] 32. 
Our supreme foe in time may much relent. Ibid. 210. 

Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell. Ibid. i. 313. 
In coiifind march, forlorn, th'advent'rous bands. Ibid. 615. 
Forth rush'd the levant and the ponent winds. Ibid. x. 704. 

In placing the accent on the first syllable instead 
of the second on these words, as the poet has 
done, we find no such harshness to the ear as in 
the former examples, and I think we may there- 



158 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

fore conclude that something like a rule is dis- 
covered respecting words of two syllables. 

The management of the misaccented words of 
three syllables, is not perhaps so easy. After 
trying every possible way to reconcile the accent 
and the metre, I have not been able to conceive 
a better method than that of compromising the 
demands of each. Perhaps the least offensive 
method to the ear of preserving the accent, and 
not entirely violating the quantity, would be to 
place an accent on the syllable immediately pre- 
ceding that on which the poet has misplaced it, 
without dropping that which is so misplaced ; 
by this means the word will be heard with the 
true accent, which will in some measure abate 
the impropriety of the false one : and thus, by 
the succession of two accents, we shall only 
seem to be enforcing the sense, while we are 
really hiding the fault of the measure. Thus 
the word blasphemous may be accented both on 
the first and second syllable. 

O argument blasphemous f false, and proud! P. L. v. 809. 
Refrain'd his tongue blasphemous ; but anon — Ibid. vi. 360. 

Here the ear feels no great impropriety, especi- 
ally as this word is still accented by many speakers 
(though of the lower order) on the second sylla- 
ble. But the words odorous, infinite, and volu- 
ble, accented by Milton on the second syllable, 
must be nicely managed in order to prevent a 
cacophony. 

Spirits odorous breathes ; flow'rs, and their fruit — 

P. L. v. 482. 
Hoarse murmur echo'd to his words applause 
Through the infinite host. Ibid. 874. 

Whether the prime orb, 

Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd 

Diurnal ; or this less voluble earth, 

By shorter flights to th* east, had left him there. Ibid. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 159 

The same rule seems to hold good where the 
poet has placed the accent on the first and last 
syllable of a word which ought to have it on the 
middle syllable. 

and as is due 

With glory attributed to the high 

Creator? P. L. viii. 12. 

Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 

Each orb a glimpse oflight. Jbid. 155. 

Shoots invisible virtue, e'en to the deep. Ibid. iii. 586. 

If any thing can render the pronunciation of this 
very unpoetic line tolerable, it must be placing 
the accent on the first and third syllable of 
invisible. 

After all the attention, that can possibly be 
paid to many of these rugged lines, rugged they 
will still remain ; and when the reader has done 
his best to make them as smooth as possible, the 
author is justly chargeable with the want of poe- 
tic harmony. Dr. Watts, who to learning and 
judgment united a poetical ear, directs us, in 
his rules for reading verse, so to favour the rhyme 
as to pronounce the word liberty either as libertee 
or liberties just as it rhymes with the end of the 
former line. Thus, 

" Were I but once from bondage free, 
" I'd never sell my liberty. 

" Here/* he says, tc I must pronounce the word 
ec liberty, as if it were written with a double ee, 
(C libertee, to rhyme with the word free. But if 
" the verse ran thus, 

" My soul ascends above the slcy, 
" And triumphs in her liberty. 

<c The word liberty must be sounded as ending 
M in i, that sky may have a juster rhyme to it." 
But as this compliance with the rhyme is now 



160 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

justly exploded, such verses as these ought 
never to appear in any modern poetry. The ear 
of a foreigner (which, as Mr. Addison observes, 
is perhaps the best judge in this case) is shocked 
beyond measure at such verses ; and natives 
only bear them because they are accustomed to 
them. How strangely do two lines that rhyme 
appear in blank verse where we do not expect 
them ? and can such lines, as have no agreement 
in sound, appear less strange when a rhyme 
is expected ? Certainly not. But as judicious 
readers of the present day would rather the verse 
should appear strange by not rhyming, than 
strange by altering the accent or sound of a word, 
so, in a choice of evils, the less seems to be that 
of preserving as much as possible the proper ac- 
cent in blank verse, and making the poet an- 
swerable for the rest : but, as we have observed 
above, if there are cases in which the poet may 
be favoured without departing too widely from 
general usage, it is incumbent on the reader to 
pronounce his author to the best advantage, not 
only by heightening his beauties, hut, as much 
as possible, by hiding his faults. 

I am indebted to the Rev. Mr. Robertson, in 
his elegant Essay on the Nature of English Verse, 
for many of the examples I have made use of, as 
well as for many judicious observations on them; 
and have much to regret, that a gentleman of his 
real learning and good taste did not carry his 
observations farther. 



Rule III. Hozv the Voxvels e and o are to be 

pronounced, when apostrophised. 



The vowel e, which, in poetry, is so often cut 
off by an apostrophe in the word the, and in un- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 161 

accented syllables before r, as dang'rous, gerirous, 
&c. ought always to be preserved in pronuncia- 
tion., because the syllable it forms is so short as 
to admit of being sounded with the succeeding 
syllable, so as not to increase the number of syl- 
lables to the ear, or at all to hurt the melody. 

Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill 

Appear in writing, or in judging ill : 

But of the two, less dang'rous is th' offence 

To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. Pope. 

Him the Almighty pow'r 

Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, 

With hideous ruin and combustion down 

To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 

In adamantine chains and penal fire, 

Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. Milton, 

In these examples, we see the particle the may 
either form a distinct syllable or not. In the 
third line from Pope, the first the forms a distinct 
syllable, but the second is sunk into the suc- 
ceeding noun. The same may be observed of 
this particle in the passages from Milton. The 
same observations, in every respect, hold good 
in the pronunciation of the preposition to, which 
ought always to be sounded long, like the ad- 
jective two, however it may be printed, whether 
as we see it in Pope's Essay on Man, 

Say what the use were finer optics giv'n, 

T* inspect a mite, not comprehend the Heav'n : 

Or in Milton, either abbreviated as in 



durst oppose 



A third part of the Gods in synod met 
Their Deities t' assert: who, while they feel 
Vigour divine within them, can allow 
Omnipotence to none. Par. Lost, b. vi. v. 155. 

Or at length, as in the following passage, 

M 



162 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Yet still they knew, and ought to have still remember'd 
The high injunction not to taste that fruit 
Whoever tempted 

Having premised these observations on words, 
we shall next proceed to sentences ; as words 
arranged into sentences may be properly called 
the subject matter of the Art of reading. 

Of the Pause or Co? sura of Verse. 

Rule IV. Almost every verse admits of a 
pause in or near the middle of the line, which is 
called the Caesura ; this must be carefully ob- 
served in reading verse, or much of the distinct- 
ness, and almost all the harmony, will be lost. 

EXAMPLE. 

Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit, 

And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit : 

As on the land while here the ocean gains, 

In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains ; 

Thus in the soul, while memory prevails, 

The solid pow'r of understanding fails ; 

Where beams of warm imagination play, 

The memory's soft figures melt away. Pope. 

These lines have seldom any points inserted in 
the middle, even by the most scrupulous punc 
tuists; and yet nothing can be more palpable 
to the ear than that a pause in the first at things, 
in the second at curb'd, in the third at land, in 
the fourth at parts, in the fifth at soul, is abso- 
lutely necessary to the harmony of those lines : 
and that the sixth, by admitting no pause but at 
understanding, and the seventh, none but at ima- 
gination, border very nearly upon prose. The 
reason why these lines will not admit of a pause 
any where but at these words will be evident 
to those who have perused the former part of 
this work on the division of a sentence ; and if 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 163 

the reader would see one of the most curious 
pieces of analysis on this subject in any lan- 
guage, let him peruse the chapter on Versifica- 
tion, in Lord Karnes' Elements of Criticism ; 
where he will see the subject of pausing, as it 
relates to verse, discussed in the deepest, clearest, 
and most satisfactory manner. It will be only 
necessary to observe in this place, that though 
the most harmonious place for the capital pause 
is after the fourth syllable, it may, for the sake 
of expressing the sense strongly and suitably, 
and even sometimes for the sake of variety, be 
placed at several other intervals. 

EXAMPLES. 

'Tis hard to say — if greater want of skill. 

So when an angel — by divine command, 
With rising tempests — shakes a guilty land. 

Then from his closing eyes — thy form shall part, 
And the last pang — shall tear thee from his heart. 

Inspir'd repuls'd battalions — to engage, 
And taught the doubtful battle — where to rage. 
Know then thyself — presume not God to scan ; 
The proper study of mankind — is man. 

Of the Cadence of Verse. 

Rule V. In order to form a cadence in a 
period in rhyming verse, we must adopt the 
falling inflexion with considerable force in the 
caesura of the last line but one. 

EXAMPLES. 

One science only will one genius fit, 
So vast is art, so narrow human wit ; 
Not only bounded to peculiar arts, 
But oft in those connVd to single parts ; 

M 2 



164 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Like kings, we lose the conquests gain'd before 

By vain ambition, still to make them more ; 

Each might his sev'ral province — well command 

Would all but stoop to what they understand. Pope. 

In repeating these lines, we shall find it ne- 
cessary to form the cadence, by giving the falling 
inflexion with a little more force than common 
to the word province. The same may be observ- 
ed of the word prospect in the last line of the 
following passage : 

So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try, 
Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky ; 
Th' eternal snows appear already past, 
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last : 
But those attain'd, we tremble to survey 
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way ; 
Th' increasing prospect — tires our wand'ring eyes, 
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise. 



How to pronounce a Simile in Poetry. 

Rule VI. A simile in poetry ought always 
to be read in a lower tone of voice than that part 
of the passage which precedes it. 



EXAMPLE. 

'Twas then great Marlb'rough's mighty soul was prov'd, 
That in the shock of charging hosts unmov'd, 
Amidst confusion, horror, and despair, 
Examin'd all the dreadful scenes of war ; 
In peaceful thought the field of death survey'd, 
To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid; 
Inspir'd repuls'd battalions to engage, 
And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. 
So when an angel, by divine command, 
With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, 
(Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past) 
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; 
And pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, 
Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm. Addison. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 165 

This rule is one of the greatest embellish- 
ments of poetic pronunciation, and is to be ob- 
served no less in blank verse than in rhyme. 
Milton's beautiful description of the sports of 
the fallen angels affords us a good opportunity of 
exemplifying it. 

Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 

With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form, 

As when, to warn proud cities, war appears 

Wag'd in the troubled sky, and armies rush 

To battle in the clouds, before each van 

Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears, 

Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 

From either end of Heav'n the welkin burns. 

Others with vast Typhcean rage more fell 

Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 

In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 

As when Alcides, from (Echalia crown'd 

With conquest, felt th' envenom'd robe ; and tore, 

Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines, 

And Lichas from the top of CEta threw 

Into th' Euboic sea. Par. Lost. b. ii. 531. 

In reading this passage, the voice must drop 
into a monotone at the commencement of each 
simile : as it proceeds, the voice gradually slides 
out of the monotone, to avoid too great a same- 
ness ; but the monotone itself, being so essen- 
tially different from the preceding style of pro- 
nunciation, becomes one of the greatest sources 
of variety. 

Rule VII. Where there is no pause in the 
sense at the end of a verse, the last word must 
have exactly the same inflexion it would have 
in prose. Of that visionary pause at the end of 
every line in verse, called by some writers the 
pause of suspension, See a full confutation in 
Elements of Elocution, p. 288. 

Over their heads a crystal firmament, 

Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 

Amber, and colours of the flow'ry arch. Milton, 



166 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In this example the word pure must have the 
falling inflexion, whether we make any pause at 
it or not, as this is the inflexion the word would 
have if the sentence were pronounced prosaically. 
For the same reason the words retir'd and went, 
in the following example, must be pronounced 
with the rising- inflexion. 

At his command th' uprooted hills retir'd 
Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went 
Obsequious ; Heav'n his wonted face renew'd, 
And with fresh flow'rets hills and valleys smil'd. Milton. 

Rule VIII. Sublime, grand, and magnificent 
description in poetry requires a lower tone of 
voice, and a sameness nearly approaching to a 
monotone. 

This rule will surprise many, who have al- 
ways been taught to look upon a monotone, or 
sameness of voice, as a deformity in reading. A 
deformity it certainly is, when it arises either 
from a want of power to alter the voice, or a 
want of judgment to introduce it properly ; but 
I presume it may be with confidence affirmed, 
that when it is introduced with propriety, it is 
one of the greatest embellishments of poetic pro- 
nunciation. 

EXAMPLE. 
And if each system in gradation roll, 
Alike essential to th' amazing whole, 
The least confusion but in one, not all 
That system only, but the whole must fall. 
Let earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly, 
Planets and suns run lawless through the sky ; 
Let ruling angels from their spheres be hurl'd, 
Being on being wreck'd, and world on world, 
Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod, 
And Nature tremble to the throne of God : 
All this dread order break ! — for whom ? for thee ? 
Vile worm ! — oh madness ! pride ! impiety ! Pope. 

The series of grand images which commences 
at the fifth line fills the mind with surprise 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 161 

approaching to astonishment. As this passion 
has a tendency to fix the body, and deprive it of 
motion, so it is best expressed in speaking by a 
deep and almost uniform tone of voice: the 
tone indeed may have a small slide upwards at 
sky, world, and God, but the words fly, hurtd, 
and nod, require exactly the same monotonous 
sound with which the rest of the line must be 
pronounced. 

What has been just observed in the last Les- 
son leads us to another rule in reading verse, 
which, though subject to exceptions, is sufficiently 
general to be of considerable use. 

Rule IX. When the first line of a couplet 
does not form perfect sense, it is necessary to sus- 
pend the voice at the end of the line with the ris- 
ing slide. 

EXAMPLE. 

Far as creation's ample range extends, 

The scale of sensual, mental pow'rs ascends. 

Mark how it mounts to man's imperial race, 

From the green myriads in the peopled grass. Pope, 

This rule holds good even where the first line 
forms perfect sense by itself, and is followed by 
another forming perfect sense likewise, provided 
the first line does not end with an emphatic word 
which requires the falling slide. 

EXAMPLE. 

Self-love, the spring of motion, acts the soul ; 

Reason's comparing balance rules the whole. 

All nature is but art unknown to thee, 

All chance, direction which thou canst not see : 

All discord, harmony not understood, 

All partial evil, universal good: 

And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, 

One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right. Pope. 

In all these couplets, except the last, the first 
line forms perfect sense by itself, but the variety 



168 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and harmony of the verse require they should 
be all equally read with the rising slide on the 
last word. But if the first line ends with an em- 
phatical word requiring the falling slide, this 
slide must be given to it, but in a higher tone of 
voice than the same slide in the last line of the 
couplet. 

EXAMPLE. 

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 

As to be hated needs but to be seen ; 

Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 

We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

But where th' extreme of vice was ne'er agreed ; 

Ask where's the north, at York 'tis on the Tweed : 

No creature owns it in the first degree, 

But thinks his neighbour further gone than he. 

E'en ihose who dwell beneath its very zone, 

Or never feel the rage, or never own ; 

What happier natives shrink at with affright 

The hard inhabitant contends is right. Pope. 

In the first line of the last couplet but one, the 
word zone is emphatical, and requires the falling 
slide; but this slide must not be in so low a tone 
as it is in the last word of the next line. 

But when the first line of a couplet does not 
form sense, and the second line, either from its 
not forming sense, or from its being a question, 
requires the rising slide; in this case, the first 
line must end with such a pause as the sense re- 
quires, but without any alteration in the tone of 
the voice. 

EXAMPLE. 

When the proud steed shall know why man restrains 
His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains; 
When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod, 
Is now a victim, and now Egypt's god. 
Then shall man's pride and dulness comprehend 
His actions', passions', being's, use and end: 
Why doing, suffering, check'd, impell'd — and why 
This hour a slave, the next a deity. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 169 

In this passage the words restrain and clod 
ought to have no inflexion, and plains and god 
the rising. 

In the same manner, if a question requires the 
second line of the couplet to adopt the rising 
slide, the first ought to have a pause at the end, 
but the voice, without any alteration, ought to 
carry on the same tone to the second line, and 
to continue this tone almost to the end. 

EXAMPLE. 

Shall burning ^Etna, if a sage requires, 
Forget to thunder, and recall her fires ? 
On air or sea new notions be impress'd, 
O blameless Bethel, to relieve thy breast ? 
When the loose mountain trembles from on high, 
Shall gravitation cease, while you go by ? 
Or some old temple, nodding to its fall, 
For Chartres' head reserve the hanging wall ? 

In this passage the three first couplets are ques- 
tions requiring the rising slide at the end, and 
must therefore have the first lines end with a 
sameness of voice, which sameness must begin 
each succeeding line, and continue till it ap- 
proaches the end, which adopts the rising in- 
flexion. The last couplet is of exactly the same 
form as the rest ; but, as it ends a paragraph, it 
must, both for the sake of variety and harmony, 
have its first line end with the rising, and its last 
with the falling slide. 

The same principles of harmony and variety 
induce us to read a triplet with a sameness of 
voice, or a monotone, on the end of the first line, 
the rising slide on the end of the second, and the 
falling on the last. 



Waller was smooth, but Dryden taught to join 
The varying verse, the full resounding line, 
The long majestic march, and energy divine. 



} 



170 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

This rule, however, from the various sense of 
the triplet, is liable to many exceptions. Rut, 
with very few exceptions, it may be laid down 
as a rule that a quatrain, or stanza of four lines 
of alternate verse, may be read with the mono- 
tone ending the first line, the rising slide 
ending the second and third, and the falling 
the last. 

EXAMPLE. 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene 

The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; 

Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 

Grays Elegy, 

On Blank Verse. 

The structure and punctuation of blank verse 
are vast sources of error and perplexity to young 
readers. Writers of blank verse affect to end 
the line without any pause, or with as small a 
pause as possible ; and readers are too apt, where 
they see no pause at the end of the line, to run 
the lines together, without attending to such 
pauses as they would make in prose, for fear we 
should suppose they do not know how to read 
blank verse: this makes them frequently pro- 
nounce the words at the end of one line and the 
beginning of the next much more swiftly than 
any other part of the verse, to the utter ruin of 
the harmony : for all verse requires a stated re- 
gular march of the syllables, and it is in this 
march the grandeur and beauty of the verse 
consists. In reading blank verse, therefore, care 
must be taken to steer between the one extreme 
of ending every line with a pause ; and the other, 
of running one line into another more rapidly 
than if they were prose. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 171 

With respect to the pause of suspension at the 
end of every line in blank verse, which some 
writers insist upon as necessary to the harmony, 
See Elements of Elocution, p. 288, where the 
subject is fully discussed. 



172 

AN 

EXPLANATION 

OF THE 

FIGURES OF RHETORIC, 

WITH DIRECTIONS 
FOR THE PROPER MANNER OF PRONOUNCING THEM. 



Hitherto sentences have been considered only 
with regard to their external form, and their 
plain and obvious meaning. We have seen them 
in all their variety of simple and compound; have 
observed them in every diversity of structure; 
and have examined at large, and with some de- 
gree of attention, the connexion that subsists 
between their several parts, so as to determine 
the precise meaning and import of the whole. 
Thus far, however, sentences may be considered 
as pertaining to grammar only*. There is ano- 
ther view in which we may contemplate them, 
which may be called rhetorical ; and that is, not 
only when the sentence has a simple and definite 
meaning, but when this meaning is cast into a 

* Les grammariens et rheteurs ayant fait cles observations 
sur les differentes manieres de parler, ils ont faites des classes 
particuliers de ces differentes manieres, afin de mettre plus d'or- 
dre et d'arrangement dans leurs reflexions. Les manieres de 
parler dans lesquelles ils n'ont remarque d'autre propriete que 
celle de faire connoitre ce qu'on pense, sont appellees simple- 
ment phrases, expressions, periodes ; mais celles qui expriment 
non seulement des pensees mais encore des pensees enoncees 
d'une maniere particuliere qui lui donne un caractere propre, 
celles-la dis-je sont appellees Jigwes, parce qu'elles paroissent, 
pour ainsi dire, sous une forme particuliere, et avec ce carac- 
tere propre, qui les distingue les unes des autres et de tout ce 
quin'est que phrase ou expression. Du Marsais des Tropes, p. 9. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 173 

peculiar form, and therefore called a figure : and 
it is to this latter meaning, that is to the figura- 
tive sense of words, that language owes its pecu- 
liar force and beauty. 

These figures may be divided into two kinds ; 
namely, into such as are common to every species 
of composition, and into such as belong more 
particularly to oratory. The former of these, 
such as Metaphors, Allegories, &c. have no re- 
ference to delivery, and may be considered as 
perfect, whether they are spoken or not : the 
latter, such as Irony, Aposiopesis, Climax, &c. 
suppose a pronunciation suitable to each, and 
without which they have not half their beauty : 
the first of these figures we may, for the sake of 
distinction, call rhetorical, and the last oratori- 
cal. But, as many of the figures of each of these 
kinds are nearly allied to both, it may not be 
improper to give a summary account of both, 
that each of them may be better understood. 

I shall not enter into a minute discussion of 
the difference between a trope and a figure, but 
shall content myself with following the accurate 
and philosophical Du Marsais on this subject, 
who considers the former as a species of the lat- 
ter, and defines a figure to be a manner of speak- 
ing distinguished by a particular modification, 
■ which reduces it to a certain class; and which ren- 
ders it more lively, more noble, and more agreeable, 
than a manner of speaking which expresses the 
same thought xvithout this particular modification 
of it. 

This he illustrates by a passage from Bruyere, 
where he says, " There are certain subjects, in 
ff which mediocrity is intolerable; poetry, music, 
(C painting, and public speaking." * Here/ says 
Du Marsais, c there is no figure, that is to say, the 
' whole phrase merely expresses the thought of 



in RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

9 Bruyere, without any turn which particularly 

* characterises it;' but when he adds, " What 
99 punishment is it to hear a frigid composition 
fC pompously delivered, or poor verses pronounced 
" with emphasis ! " ' This/ says our author, ' is 
' the same thought, but there is added to it the 
' expression of surprise and admiration ; and 

* this expression makes it a figure/ Or, in other 
words, a trope or figure is where a word or sen- 
tence is to be understood in a sense different from 
its most common and ordinary usage ; and it is 
this peculiar sense or form of the thought which 
constitutes the figure of the expression. This 
cannot be better illustrated than by the use of 
the word taste. When we say a person has a 

fine taste in wines, the word is used in its most 
common and ordinary sense ; but when we say 
he has a fine taste for painting, poetry, or music, 
we use the word figuratively : in the latter use of 
the word, therefore, there is a figure, and in the 
former none. 

Having thus given a general idea of the na- 
ture of rhetorical figures, 1 shall proceed to give 
a particular account of them ; and first of the 
Metaphor. 

Metaphor. 

A metaphor is on expression, where a word 
or phrase departs from its more common and 
ordinary sense to another, which it resembles in 
some respects, and differs from in others : or, in 
fewer words, it may be defined to be a simile, 
or comparison, without the sign of comparison. 
Thus, when we say Demosthenes was the bulwark 
of Athens, the word bulwark in a metaphor; be- 
cause, as a bulwark guards a place from its ene- 
mies, so Demosthenes, by his eloquence, guarded 
the Athenian state. But if we say Demosthenes 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 175 

was a bulwark to Athens, then it becomes a 
simile or comparison ; so that a metaphor is a 
stricter or closer comparison, and a comparison 
a looser and less compact metaphor. 

"Metaphors," says an ingenious and judicious 
author*, "abound in all writings : from scrip- 
" ture they might be produced in vast variety. 
" Thus our blessed Lord is called a vine, a lamb, 
" a lion, &c. Thus men, according to their dif- 
Cf ferent dispositions, are styled wolves, sheep, 
" dogs, serpents, &c. And indeed metaphors 
" not only abound in the sacred writings, but they 
" overspread all language; and the more care- 
" fully we examine authors, not only poets but 
u philosophers, the more shall we discover their 
" free and large use of metaphors, taken from 
" the arts and sciences, the customs of mankind, 
" and the unlimited fields of nature." 

AHlegory. 

An allegory is a continuation of several meta- 
phors, so connected in sense as to form a kind 
of parable or fable. It differs from a single me- 
taphor, says the above-mentioned author, in the 
same manner as a cluster on the vine does from 
a single grape. This we may illustrate by a 
very happy example of his own, where, speak- 
ing of the metaphor, he says, " Of all the 
" flowers that embellish the regions of elo- 
" quence, there is none that rises to such an 
f( eminence, that bears so rich and beautiful a 
" blossom, that diffuses such a copious and ex- 
lc quisite fragrance, or that so amply rewards 
" the care and culture of the poet or the 
" orator f." 

* Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 24. 
f Ibid. p. 27. 



17G RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Quintilian observes, that the most beautiful 
species of composition is that where there is a 
mixture of the comparison, the allegory, and the 
trope ; an instance of which he gives us in the 
following passage from Cicero : 

" What estuary, what part of the sea, can you imagine so 
" much vexed with the tossing and agitations of the waves ? 
" How violent the perturbations and fury of our popular as- 
" semblies, for the election of magistrates ! The space of only 
" one day or night often throws all things into confusion, and 
" sometimes only a small breath of rumour shall quite change 
" the opinion of the whole people." Quintil. lib. vii. cap. 6. 

Metonymy. 

A Metonymy is a figure, where one name is 
put for another, for which it may be allowed to 
stand, on account of some relation or coherence 
between them. Thus, a humane prince is called 
a Titus, a cruel one a Nero, and a great con- 
queror an Alexander. Cicero, speaking of the 
study of eloquence, says, 

To omit Greece, which always claimed the preeminence 
for eloquence : and Athens, the inventress of all sciences, 
where the art of speaking was invented and perfected : in this 
city of ours, no studies have prevailed more than that of elo- 
quence. 

Where the words Greece and Athens stand to 
denote the inhabitants of those places ; and it is 
this usage of the city or country for the inhabi- 
tants that forms the metonymy. 

Synecdoche. 

A Synecdoche puts the whole for a part, or a 
part for the whole, as, 

Thy growing virtues justified my cares, 
And promis'd comfort to my silver hairs. Pope's Homer. 
That is, my old age. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR 177 

Achilles' wide destroying wrath that pour'd 
Ten thousand woes on Greece, O Goddess, sing ! 
Homer s Iliad, b. i. v. 1. Gibbon's Rhet. p. 74<. 

Where we may observe, that putting* a certain 
number for an uncertain one, that is, ten thou- 
sand woes for the great number of woes brought 
on Greece by the wrath of Achilles,, forms a 
species of the figure of Synecdoche. 

Hyperbole. 

An Hyberbole is a figure that goes beyond the 
bounds of strict truth, and represents things as 
greater or smaller, better or worse, than they 
really are. 

Milton's strong pinion now not Heav'n can bound, 
Now serpentlike in prose he sweeps the ground. Pope. 

Virgil, describing the swiftness of Camilla, says: 

Camilla 



Outstripp'd the winds in speed upon the plain, 
Flew o'er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain: 
She swept the seas, and, as she skimm'd along, 
Her flying foot unbath'd in billows hung. 

Dry den, Jin. vii. 

Catachresis. 

The Catachresis, or abuse, borrows the name of 
one thing to express another, which either has 
no proper name of its own, or, if it has, the bor- 
rowed name is more surprising* and agreeable, on 
account of its novelty and boldness : thus the 
word drink, in the following passage, is so bold 
a figure as to be properly styled a Catachresis : 

Phemius ! let acts of gods and heroes old, 
What ancient bards in hall and bow'r have told 
Attemper' d to the lyre, your voice employ, 
Si.vmi the pleas'd ear will drink with silent joy. 

Pope's Homer's Odyssey, 

N 



178 RHETORICAL GRAxMMAR. 

The figures which follow, and which, for the 
sake of distinction, may be styled oratorical 
figures, are such as derive much of their beauty 
from a proper delivery : this delivery we shall 
endeavour to describe ; and if the description 
conveys but a faint idea of the proper manner of 
pronouncing them, it must be remembered that 
a faint idea of this pronunciation is better than 
none at all. 

1'rony. 

Irony is a figure, in which one extreme is sig- 
nified by its opposite extreme ; or where we 
speak of one thing, and design another, in order 
to give the greater force and poignancy to our 
meaning. Thus Cicero sometimes applies it in 
the way of jest and banter, where he says, 

We have much reason to believe the modest man would not 
ask him for his debt, where he pursues his life. 

Pro Quint c. 11. 

At other times, by way of insult and derision. 
Thus, when he would represent the forces of 
Cataline as mean and contemptible, lie says, 

O terrible war ! in which this band of profligates are to 
march under Catiline. Draw out all your garrisons against 
this formidable body ! 

And at other times, in order to give the greater 
force to his argument, he seems, as it were, by 
this figure to recall and correct what he had said 
before : as in his oration for Milo : 

But it is foolish in us to compare Drusus Africanus, and 
ourselves, with Clodius ; all our other calamities were tolera- 
ble, but no one can patiently bear the death of Clodius. 

In pronouncing the first of these passages, we 
should assume an overacted approbation, and 
such a tone of voice as seems to exclude all 
doubt of the integrity of the person we sneer at : 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 179 

this tone is low and drawling, and must be 
accompanied by a lifting up of the hands, as 
if it were a crime to think otherwise than we 
speak. 

In the second passage we must assume a fear, 
as if occasioned by the most terrible danger. 
The voice must be in a high tremulous tone, 
and the hands lifted up, with the palms and 
fingers open, as if to defend us from approaching 
ruin. 

In the third passage we must assume a disap- 
probation, approaching to contempt: the voice 
must be in a low tone, and the right hand with 
the palm and fingers open, waved from the left 
to the right, as if to set aside something too in- 
significant to be attended to ; but the last mem- 
ber must have the tone of approbation, as if the 
object of it were something very noble and sa- 
cred. For this sentence, see pp. 75 and 77, and 
the Plate annexed. 



Satan beheld their plight, 



And to his mates thus in derision call'd. 

O friends, why come not on these victors proud ? 

Erewhile they fierce were coming, and when we 

To entertain them fair with open front 

And breast (what could we more?) propounded terms 

Of composition, straight they chang'd their minds, 

Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell 

As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seem'd 

Somewhat extravagant and wild : perhaps 

For joy of offer'd peace ; but I suppose, 

If our proposals once again were heard, 

We should compel them to a quick result. 

Milton's Paradise Lost, b. vi. v. 609. 

This passage, as Mr. Addison observes, is no- 
thing but a string of puns, and those very bad 
ones too : but whatever may be its merits in 
other respects, it affords an excellent opportunity 
of practising the pronunciation of irony. It 
must begin by an affected surprise, and proceed 

N 2 



180 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

with a seriousness and seeming sincerity till the 
seventh line, when the word for is to have an 
emphasis with the rising inflexion, and to be 
pronounced with an air of uncertainty whether 
it were a dance or not. A sneer commences at 
perhaps, which must be pronounced with a sly 
arch tone, as if perfectly secure of the conse- 
quences of another onset. 

EcphonSsis. 

Exclamation and Interrogation have been 
treated at large in the former part of this work ; 
but there they have been considered only with 
respect to pause and inflexion of voice : here it 
will be necessary to consider them more rhe- 
torically, and to endeavour to show what tones, 
passions, and gestures, they demand. 

Ecphonesis, or Exclamation, is a figure which 
shows that the mind labours with some strong 
and vehement passion. It is generally expressed 
by such interjections as O ! Oh ! Ah ! Alas ! 
and the like, which may be called the signs of 
this figure. 

But first we may observe, that while other 
figures are confined to some particular passion, 
this seems to extend to all, and is the voice of 
nature under any kind of commotion or con- 
cern : this voice, however, is not (as we are told 
in our grammars) always in a high and elevated 
tone : strong passion is not unfrequently ex- 
pressed by a low tone ; for, though both loud- 
ness and highness generally accompany any sud- 
den emotion of soul, it is certain that we may 
cry out in a loud and high tone without much 
emotion ; and that we may express much emo~ 
tion, provided it is not sudden, without being 
either very high or very loud. The tone of tie 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 1S1 

passion,, therefore, must direct the tone of the 
voice in this figure. Accordingly we find that 
joy unexpected adopts this figure, and elevates 
the voice to the highest pitch. 



O my soul's joy 



If after ev'ry tempest come such calms, 

31 ay the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! 

Shakspeare's Othello. 

joy, thou welcome stranger ! twice three years 

1 have not felt thy vital beam ; but now 

It warms my veins, and plays about my heart : 

A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground, 

And I could mount Revenge, act iii. 

Sorrow in the extreme likewise adopts this 
figure, and raises the voice into a high tone : thus 
Lady Constance, in King John, cries out, 

I am not mad — I would to Heav'n I were ! 
For then 'tis like I should forget myself: 
Oh if I could, what grief should I forget! 

But a slight degree of sorrow, or pleasing me- 
lancholy, adopts this figure in a soft middle tone 
of voice: thus the Duke, in Shakspeare's Twelfth 
Night, relieving his melancholy with music, says: 

That strain again ! it had a dying fall ! 
Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odour. 

While the contemptuous reproach and impa- 
tience of Lady Macbeth uses the exclamation in 
a harsh and lower tone of voice : ' 



O proper stuff! 



This is the very painting of your fears : 
This is the air-drawn dagger, which you said 
Led you to Duncan. 

Thus Cicero, speaking of his banishment, from 
which he had been so honourably recalled, be- 
gins in a low and mournful tone, but ends in a 
high and exulting one : 



182 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Oh mournful day to the senate and all good men ! calami- 
tous to the senate, afflictive to me and my family ; but to pos- 
terity glorious, and worthy of admiration ! 

Pro Sext. cap. 12. 

Again, in the defence of Caelius, endeavouring 
to expose his accusers to the indignation of the 
court, he cries out, in a loud and high tone, 

Oh ! the great and mighty force of truth, which so easily 
supports itself against all the wit, craft, subtlety, and artful 
designs of men ! 

At other times he adopts this figure to express 
disdain or contempt; as, when speaking of Pom- 
pey's house, which Mark Antony had purchased, 
he says to him, in a low contemptuous tone, — 

Oh ! consummate impudence ! dare you go within those 
walls? dare you venture over that venerable threshold, and 
show your audacious countenance to the tutelar deities which 
reside there? Philipp, ii. c. 26. 

Thus we see the Exclamation adapts itself to 
the passion which adopts it, and is either in a 
high or low tone of voice, as the passion re- 
quires ; but as it is seldom adopted, but when 
there is a strong emotion of soul, it is generally 
heard in a loud tone, though not always in a 
high one : this distinction of voice is so little 
understood or attended to, that it is no wonder 
we find our grammars echoing from each other 
that this figure always requires a high and ele- 
vated tone. 

Erotesis. 

Erotesis, or Interrogation, is a figure by which 
we express the emotion of our mind, and infuse 
an ardour and energy into our discourse by pro- 
posing questions. 

This figure, as it relates to grammar, has been 
already treated of at large, and that slide or in- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 183 

flexion of voice which distinguishes one species 
of it has been fully explained and inculcated : 
for, as the learned professor Ward observes, 
" Ever j interrogation or question is not figura- 
" tive. When we inquire about a thing that is 
" doubtful, in order to be informed, this is no 
" figure, but the natural form of such expres- 
" sions : as if I ask a person, where he is going ? 
" or what he is doing? But it then becomes figu- 
" rative, when the same thing may be expressed 
u in a direct manner ; but the putting it by way 
" of question gives it a much greater life and 
<( spirit : as when Cicero says, Cataline, hozv long 
" will you abuse our patience? Do not you per- 
(( . ceive your designs are discovered? He might 
" indeed have said, You abuse our patience along 
" while : you must be sensible your designs are 
" discovered. But it is easy to perceive how 
" much this latter way of expression falls short 
u of the force and vehemence of the former." 

This figure, like the last, is the vehicle of 
every passion and emotion of the mind. But if 
we consider it only as a departure from the de- 
clarative form, and not accompanied by any pas- 
sion, it wonderfully varies and enlivens the style, 
by holding personal converse as it were with the 
reader or auditor, and urging him to attention by 
the answer it leads him to expect. If this figure 
is formed by the verb only, and without the in- 
terrogative words, it frequently commences and 
continues with the monotone, and ends with an 
inflexion of voice, which not only pleases the 
ear by the striking variety it produces, but rouses 
the attention by its more immediate address to 
the understanding. But when to these marking 
properties we annex emotion or passion, this 
figure becomes the most powerful engine in the 
whole arsenal of oratory. How does Cicero 



184 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

press and bear down his adversary by the force of 
interrogations,, when, pleading for his client, he 
thus addresses himself to his accuser: 

I will make you this offer, Plancius ; choose any one tribe 
you please, and show, as you ought, by whom it was bribed ; 
but if you cannot, and, in my opinion, will not even attempt 
to do this, I will show you how he gained it. Is this a fair 
contest? Will you engage on this ground? It is an open, 
honourable challenge to you. Why are you silent ? Why 
do you dissemble ? Why do you prevaricate? I repeatedly 
insist upon this point, I urge you to it, press it, require it, nay, 
I demand it of you. 

His interrogations to Tubero, in his Oration 
for LigariuSj have the same irresistible force. 

What, Tubero, did that naked sword of yours mean in the 
battle of Pharsalia? at whose breast was its point aimed? 
What was then the meaning of your arms, your spirit, your 
eyes, your hands, your ardour of soul ? What did you desire, 
what wish for? I press the youth too much, he seems dis- 
turbed. Let me return to myself. I too bore arms on the 
same side. 

As these questions have the nature of a climax, 
they ought to be pronounced with increasing 
force to the end ; that is, every succeeding ques- 
tion should be pronounced higher and louder 
than the preceding^ and the demand in the last 
example but one in a lower and louder tone than 
all. 

What uncommon force and spirit do the ques- 
tions of Germanicus to his mutinous soldiers give 
to his reproaches ! 

What is there in these days that you have not attempted? 
What have you not profaned ? What name shall I give to 
this assembly ? Shall I call you soldiers ? you, who have be- 
sieged with your arms, and surrounded with a trench, the son 
of your emperor? Shall I call you citizens ? you, who have so 
shamefully trampled upon the authority of the senate ? you, 
who have violated the justice due to enemies, the sanctity of 
embassy, and the rights of nations ? Tacitus, Annals, lib. 1. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 185 

The beauty of this passage depends much 
upon the pronunciation of the word you : for as 
it is in opposition to the question beginning' with 
a verb, like that it ought to have the rising in- 
flexion; but this inflexion ought to be pronoun- 
ced with a large scope of sound, beginning low 
and ending high, the voice dwelling a consider- 
able time on the pronunciation : this will in some 
measure express that surprise and indignation 
with which the questions are charged; and if 
the second you is made more emphatical than 
the first, and the third than the second, the force 
and variety of the passage will be considerably 
augmented. See Question, page 93. 



Aparitlunesis, or Enumeration, Gradation, and 
Climax. 

I have associated these different figures un- 
der the same head, because there is something 
as similar in their pronunciation as in their struc- 
ture and meaning; and this similitude may serve 
to illustrate and explain what there is alike in 
the pronunciation of each. What is common to 
these figures is an accumulation of particulars, 
which particulars forma whole; and the pro- 
nunciation in all of them should mark strongly 
that unity and wholeness, in which the force and 
beauty of the figure consist. This pronuncia- 
tion has been explained at large in the article 
Series, page 106, and to this the reader must be 
referred. It seems only necessary to add here, 
that, in proportion to the degree of passion with 
which any of these figures are charged, the pro- 
nunciation of the latter members should rise in 
force and elevation of voice above the former, 
that the whole may conclude with a suitable 



186 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

force and variety. But even when there is no 
passion in the enumeration of particulars, and 
one does not rise above another in importance, 
it seems highly proper to increase the force and 
elevation of voice on the latter members, in or- 
der to avoid too great a sameness, and to make 
the sentence end with harmony. Thus when 
Cicero enumerates the great qualities of Pompey : 

What language can equal the valour of Pompey ? What 
can be said, either worthy of him, new to you, or which every 
one has not heard ? For those are not only the virtues of a 
general which are commonly thought so. It is not courage 
alone which forms a great leader, but industry in business, in- 
trepidity in dangers, vigour in acting, prudence in concerting, 
promptness in executing. All which qualities appear with 
greater lustre in him, than in all the other generals we ever 
saw or heard of. Pro Leg. Man, 

In the same manner, when Mr. Addison enu^ 
merates the several particulars in Milton's alle- 
gorical character of death : 

The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, 
and full of sublime ideas: the figure of Death, the regal crown 
upon his head, his menace of Satan, his advancing to the com- 
bat, the outcry at his birth, are circumstances too noble to be 
passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of 
t err ours. Spectato?; N° 310. 

In these enumerations we do not find the par- 
ticulars rising in force as they proceed : but as 
their sameness of form requires a sameness of 
inflexion, in order to show that they are parts of 
a whole, so a small increase of force and eleva- 
tion on each subsequent particular seems neces- 
sary, in order to make the whole more varied 
and agreeable. 

Climax, or Gradation, taken in the strictest 
sense, is an assemblage of particulars forming a 
whole in such a manner, that the last idea in 
the former member becomes the first in the lat- 
ter, and so on, step by step, till the climax or 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 187 

gradation is completed. There is great strength 
as well as beauty in this figure, when the several 
steps rise naturally out of each other, and are 
closely connected by the sense which they jointly 
convey. This mutual relation of parts we may 
perceive in the following example : 

There is no enjoyment of property without government, no 
government without a magistrate, no magistrate without 
obedience, and no obedience where every one acts as he 
pleases. 

This climax is a concluding series, and must 
have its two first members pronounced with the 
falling inflexion : the third with the rising, and 
the last with the falling, in a lower tone of voice 
than any of the rest. 

In the same manner when Cicero is pleading 
for Milo, he says, — 

Nor did he commit himself only to the people, but also to 
the senate; nor to the senate only, but likewise to the public 
forces; nor to these only, but also to the power of him with 
whom the senate had intrusted the whole commonwealth. 

In this climax the circumstances rise in im- 
portance, and should therefore have an increas- 
ing force and elevation of voice as they proceed. 
The two first members must end with the falling- 
inflexion — these only with the rising, and the last 
with the falling, but in a more forcible and ele- 
vated tone than the rest. 

A similar figure from Cicero must be pronoun- 
ced somewhat differently. 

What hope is there remaining of liberty, if whatever is their 
pleasure, it is lawful for them to do ; if what is lawful for them 
to do, they are able to do ; if what they are able to do, they 
dare do ; if what they dare do, they really execute ; and if 
what they execute, is no way offensive to you. 

In pronouncing this figure the voice must 
adopt the falling inflexion on each particular; 
it must increase in force and elevation till it 



188 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

comes to the last member, and this must have 
still more force than the former members, but 
must be pronounced in a low concluding tone. 
A perfectly similar pronunciation will suit the 
following climax from Shakspeare : 

What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how 
infinite in faculties! in form and moving how express and ad- 
mirable ! in action how like an angel ! in apprehension how 
like a God ! Hamlet. 

Mr. Addison has a beautiful climax of cir- 
cumstances rising one above another, when he 
is describing the treatment of Negroes, in the 
West Indies, who sometimes, upon the death of 
their masters, or upon changing their service, 
hang themselves upon the next tree. 

Who can forbear, says Mr. Addison, admiring their fidelity, 
though it expresses itself in so dreadful a manner ? What might 
not that savage greatness of soul, which appears in these poor 
wretches on many occasions, be raised to, were it rightly cul- 
tivated ? And what colour of excuse can there be for the con- 
tempt with which we treat this part of our species ? That we 
should not put them upon the common foot of humanity; that 
we should only set an insignificant fine upon the man who 
murders them ; nay, that we should, as much as in us lies, cut 
them off from the prospects of happiness in another world as 
well as in this, and deny them that which we look upon as the 
proper means for attaining it? Spectator, N° 215. 

The falling inflexion with increasing force upon 
the words humanity, murders, and another, will 
give that force and colouring to this passage 
which it so richly deserves. 

But the series or climax never appears to such 
advantage in pronunciation as when it is highly 
impassioned. Of this kind are the two follow- 
ing examples from Demosthenes : 

But since he has insisted so much upon the event, I will 
hazard a bold assertion. But I beseech you, Athenians, let it 
not be deemed extravagant, — let it be weighed with candour. 
I say, then, that, had we all known what misfortune was to 
attend our efforts, had we all foreseen the final issue ; had you 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 189 

foretold it, iEsehines ; had you bellowed out your terrible de- 
nunciations ; (you, whose voice was never heard), yet even in 
such a case must this city have pursued the very same con- 
duct, if she had retained a thought of glory, of her ancestors, 
or of future times. LelaruVs Demosthenes. 

In my affection to my country, you find me ever firm and 
invariable. Not the solemn demand of my person, not the 
vengeance of the Amphyctionic council, which they denounced 
against me, not the terrour of their threntenings, not the 
flattery of their promises, no nor the fury of those accursed 
wretches, whom they roused like wild beasts against me, 
could ever tear this affection from my breast. Ibid. 



Epanuphora. 

Epanaphora, or Repetition, is a figue which 
gracefully and emphatically repeats either the 
same words, or the same sense in different 
words. 

This figure is nearly allied to the Aparithmesis 
and Climax, and requires nearly the same pro- 
nunciation ; that is, the repeated words must he 
pronounced with a sameness of inflexion, but 
with an increasing force and elevation of voice 
upon each. This expresses that force, uniformity, 
and diversity, vvhicjijConstitute the beauty of this 
figure. Fairnfro. 

Therp ' And welt'ring i more beautiful instance of 
this figu Karnes, in hiro's Second Oration against 
Antony. '*«« \ 

As trees and plants necessarily arise from seeds, so are you, 
A 'ntony, the seed of this most calamitous war. You mourn, 
O Romans! that three of your armies have been slaughtered — 
they were slaughtered by A ntony ; you lament the loss of 
your most illustrious citizens — they Mere torn from you by 
A" ntony : the authority of this order is deeply wounded — it 
is wounded by Antony: in short, all the calamities we have 
ever since beheld (and what calamities have we not beheld?) 
if we reason rightly, have been entirely owing to A ntony. 
As Helen was of Troy, so the bane, the misery, the destruc- 
tion of this state — is A ntony. 



190 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

The first part of this passage forms a kind 
of dialogue, where both the question and an- 
swer require the same inflexion,, but in different 
pitches of voice. Thus, You mourn, O Romans; 
that three of your armies have been slaughtered, 
must be pronounced in an open middle tone of 
voice, without much force ; but, they were 
slaughtered by Antony, in a lower, louder, and 
more energetic tone : the two succeeding por- 
tions ought to be pronounced in the same man- 
ner, with an increasing force and a higher tone 
on the word Antony : the two last members 
are of a different structure from the former, and 
must be pronounced somewhat differently ; that 
is, Antony must be pronounced in a lower tone 
than in the former members, but with increasing 
force to the last. In pronouncing this passage 
in this manner, it has the effect of a climax ; 
every part has a relation to every part; and all 
the parts belong to each other, and form a strik- 
ing and harmonious whole. 

Sometimes, however, in this figure, especially 
in verse, the parts do not so necessarily belong 
to each other .as to form x a whole ; and when 
this is the case, the pronur nought to be 

as various and as musical |Creas i no . f orL that the 
repetition of the same wonj an( j_ *anothe-* mucu 
cloy the ear and injure the no , ^ ui the verse. 

Thus, in the lamentation of Orpheus for his 
beloved Eurydice, in Virgil's Georgics, b. iv. 
v. 465. 

Te dulcis conjux ; te solo in littore secura, 
Te veniente die, te decedente, canebat. 

Thee his lov'd wife, along the lonely shores : 
Thee, his loy'd wife, his mournful song deplores ; 
Thee, when the rising morning gives the light, 
Thee, when the world was overspread with night. 

Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 210. 






RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 191 

This beautiful repetition requiring a tender 
plaintive tone, does not admit of much variety, 
nor does it stand in need of it. Every thee 
ought to have the rising inflexion, and a pause 
after it. The first, his lov'd xvife, may have a 
pathetic monotone ; and the second may have 
the falling inflexion on lovd, and the rising on 
wife, which will form a variety and add to the 
pathos. Some variety and pathos may also arise 
from pronouncing the second and fourth thee, 
with the voice sliding higher and a pause longer 
than at the first and third. 

Thus the beautiful repetition of the word 
JalFn in Dry den's Ode requires such a variety 
only as is consistent with the harmony. Every 
fall'n ought to have a long pause after it, with 
such an inflexion as the verse requires; and the 
tone of voice, with respect to its height, ought 
to be more elevated on the last than on any of 
the former. 

He chose a mournful muse, 

Soft pity to infuse ; 
He sung Darius, great and good, 

Bv too severe a fate, 

Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, iall'n, 

Fall'n from his high estate, 
And vvelt'ring in his blood. 

Lord Karnes, in his Elements of Criticism, 
tells us, that the line fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, 
represents a gradual sinking of the mind, and 
therefore is pronounced with a falling voice by 
every one of taste without instruction. It is not 
easy to understand what his lordship means by 
the falling voice, with which he says this line is 
to be spoken. If he means that the voice is to 
fall gradually lower upon every succeeding 
word, we need but try this pronunciation, im- 
mediately to discover the impropriety of it; bufc 



192 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

by the fallen tone it is probable was meant a 
tone of pity, which increases as we repeat the 
words, but which by no means requires that the 
voice should drop into a lower key upon every 
succeeding word : this would entirely overturn 
the melody of the stanza, for the sake of some- 
thing like a childish echo to the sense. The 
truth is, in pronouncing this repetition properly, 
we must assume a low plaintive tone, pronounce 
the first faWn with the rising inflexion, approach- 
ing to a monotone, the second nearly in a mo- 
notone with the falling inflexion, the third with 
the falling inflexion, and the fourth with the 
rising, without any monotone at all. The fifth 
fallen, which begins the sixth line must have 
the rising inflexion sliding very high, that the 
voice may fall gradually upon the succeeding 
words, and form a cadence. 

There is a similar repetition in the first stanza 
of this ode, which requires a variety of emphasis 
in the pronunciation, very important to the 
sense and harmony of the whole. 

Happy, happy, happy pair! 

None but the brave, 

None but the brave, 

None but the brave, deserves the fair. 

The first line must be pronounced with the 
same inflexions as the fifth line of the last ex- 
ample, but in a quite opposite tone of passion ; 
that, in a low mournful lone; this in a high, gay, 
and lively one. The second line must have the 
falling inflexion with emphatic force on the word 
b?Yive : the third line must have a stronger em- 
phasis, with the falling inflexion on none; and 
the last line a still more forcible emphasis, with 
the same inflexion on but ; and this diversity will 
be found absolutely necessary to prevent a too 
great sameness in the pronunciation. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 193 



Prolepsis. 

Prolepsis, or Anticipation, is a figure, by 
which the speaker suggests an objection to 
what he is advancing, and returns an answer to 
it. This figure affords an orator a favourable 
opportunity of altering his voice and manner, 
and by this means of throwing a greater variety 
into his pronunciation. The nature of the 
figure dictates the manner of delivering it. 
When we propose an objection against ourselves, 
candour requires a certain fairness and openness 
of manner, which may show we do justice to the 
opinion of our adversary, and want to conceal 
nothing from our judges. This frankness of 
manner is best expressed by a clear open tone of 
voice somewhat higher and louder than the ge- 
neral tone of the discourse, nearly as if we were 
calling out to a person at a distance ; after 
which the answer must begin in a low firm 
tone, that the objection and answer may be the 
more clearly distinguished, and that what we 
oppose to the objection may have more the ap- 
pearance of cool reason and argument. An ex- 
cellent example of this figure is in Cicero's 
Oration for Archias. 

How many examples of the bravest men have the Greek 
and Latin writers left us — not only to contemplate but to 
imitate ! These illustrious models I have always set before me 
in the government of the state, and have formed my conduct 
by contemplating their virtues. 

But it will be asked, were those great men who are cele- 
brated in history distinguished for that kind of learning which 
you so highly extol? It would be difficult, I grant, to prove this 
of them all ; but what I shall answer is nevertheless certain. 
I own, then, that there have been many men of excellent dis- 
positions, and distinguished virtue, who, without learning, and 
by the almost divine force of nature herself, have attained to 
great wisdom and worth ; nay, farther, I will allow that nature 



194 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

without learning is of greater efficacy towards the attainment 
of glory and virtue than learning without nature : but then I 
affirm, that when to an excellent natural disposition are added 
the embellishments of learning, there always results from this 
union something astonishingly great and extraordinary. 

Before the prolepsis in this passage, as generally 
in every other where it occurs, the voice falls into 
a low tone, as having concluded some branch of 
the discourse : this gives it a better opportunity 
of striking into the highter tone proper to the 
objection ; and when this is pronounced, the 
voice falls into a lower tone, as it begins the 
answer, and rises again gradually with the im- 
portance of the subject. 

We have a beautiful instance of this figure in 
Cato: 

But, grant that others can with equal glory, 
Look down on pleasures and the baits of sense,— 
Where shall we find the man that bears affliction, 
Great and majestic in his ills, like Cato? 

The two first lines of this passage require a 
plain, high, open tone of voice : and the two last 
a lower tone, accompanied with a slight expres- 
sion of reproach for supposing any one could be 
equal to Cato. 

Pope affords us another instance of this figure : 

You think this cruel. Take it for a rule, — 
No creature smarts so little as a fool. 

The words <c you think this cruel" must be 
pronounced in a high, loud tone of voice, and 
the rest in a lower and softer tone. 

We have a striking instance of this figure in 
Pope, where, speaking of the daring flights of 
the ancients, he says, 

I know there are to whose presumptuous thoughts 
Those freer beauties even in them seem faults : 
Some figures monstrous and misshap'd appear, 
(Jonsider'd singly or beheld too near, 






RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 195 

Which but proportion'd to their light or place, 
Due distance reconciles to form and grace. 

Essay on Criticism, v. 169. 

The objection and answer in this passage are 
so little distinguished by the author, that unless 
\vc distinguish them by a different tone of voice, 
an auditor would not well conceive where the 
objection ends and the answer begins. In read- 
ing this passage, therefore, we must pronounce 
the two first lines in a high, open, declarative 
tone of voice, and commence the third in a low 
concessive tone, approaching to a monotone ; 
this monotone must continue till near the end 
of the fifth line, when the voice is to adopt the 
rising inflexion in a somewhat higher tone at the 
end ; and to commence the sixth line in a still 
higher tone, pause with the rising inflexion at 
distance, and finish the line with the voice going 
gradually lower to the end. 



Syncliorcsis. 

Syncuoresis, or Concession, is a figure by 
which we grant or yield up something, in order 
to gain a point, which we could not so well 
secure without it. 

This figure, with respect to its pronunciation, 
seems the reverse of the former. For in that, as 
we must commence in an open elevated tone, 
and drop into a low and firm one, so in this, 
we must pronounce the concessive part of the 
figure in a low, light tone, as if what we allowed 
our adversary was of no great importance, and 
then assume the argument in a strong elevated 
tone, as if we had acquired a double force from 
the concession we had made. Thus Cicero, 
pleading for Flaccus, in order to invalidate the 

2 



196 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

testimony of the Greeks, who were witnesses 
against his client, allows them every quality but 
that which was necessary to make them credited. 

This, however, I say concerning all the Greeks — I grant 
them learning, the knowledge of many sciences ; I do not deny 
that they have wit, fine genius, and eloquence ; nay, if they lay 
claim to many other excellencies, I shall not contest their title: 
but this I must say, that nation never paid a proper regard to 
the religious sanctity of public evidence, and are total strangers 
to the obligation, authority, and importance of truth. 

The first part of this passage, which forms the 
concession, should be spoken in a slight easy 
manner, and in a tone rather below that of com- 
mon conversation ; but the assertion in the latter 
part should rise into a somewhat higher tone, 
and assume a strength and firmness expressive of 
the force of the argument. It may not be im- 
proper to remark to those who understand the 
two inflexions of the voice, that the several 
members of the concession seem to require the 
rising inflexion. 

Nothing more confounds an adversary than to 
grant him his whole argument, and at the same 
time either to show that it is nothing to the pur- 
pose, or to offer something else that may invali- 
date it, as in the following example : 

I allow that nobody was more nearly related to the deceased 
than you; I grant that he was under some obligations to you; 
nay, that you have always been in friendly correspondencewith 
each other: but what is all this to the last will and testament ? 

The concession in this passage must be pro- 
nounced in a moderate, conciliating tone of 
voice : but the question at the end must rise into 
a higher, louder, and more forcible tone. 

There is an uncommon force in a passage of 
Cato's speech concerning the punishment of the 
traitors in Catiline's conspiracy, which manifestly 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 197 

arises from the figure upon which we are treat- 
ing. 

Let them, since our manners are so corrupted, be liberal 
out of the fortunes of our allies ; let them be compassionate 
to the robbers of the public treasury ; but let them not throw 
away our blood, and by sparing a few abandoned villains, 
make way for the destruction of all good men. 

Ill this example the tone of voice, with respect 
to height, is nearly the same throughout : but the 
second member assumes a much stronger and 
firmer, though rather lower tone, and necessarily 
ends with the rising inflexion. 



Epanorthosis. 

Epanorthosis, or Correction, is a figure by 
which we retract or recall what we have spoken, 
for the sake of substituting something stronger 
or more suitable in its place. 

The use of this figure lies in the unexpected 
interruption it gives to the current of our dis- 
course, by turning the stream as it were back 
upon itself, and then returning it upon the audi- 
tor with redoubled force and precision. The 
nature of this figure dictates its pronunciation; 
it is somewhat akin to the parenthesis. What 
we correct should be so pronounced as to seem 
the immediate effusion of the moment ; for which 
purpose it does not only require a separation 
from the rest of the sentence, by an alteration 
of the voice into a lower tone, but an abrupt 
discontinuance of the member immediately pre- 
ceding. This, however, is one of the most dif- 
ficult things to execute in the whole art of 
speaking, and must be managed nicely, not to 
have the appearance of affectation : for which 
reason it would be better for the generality of 



108 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

readers to consider this figure merely as a paren- 
thesis, and to pronounce it accordingly. Cicero 
makes use of this figure in his oration for Milo : 

Can you be ignorant, among the conversation of this city, 
what laws — if they are to be called laws, and not rather the 
firebrands of Rome and the plagues of the commonwealth — 
this Clodius designed to fasten and fix upon us ? 

The figure in this passage may be read like a 
parenthesis : the voice should break short at 
laws ; at if it should assume a lower, swifter, and 
more indignant tone ; at commonwealth it should 
slide upwards into what is called a suspension ; 
and at this assume the tone with which the 
sentence commenced. The same directions may 
be applied to the interjected member in the 
following passage of Cicero in his defence of 
Plancius : 

For what greater blow could those Judges — if they are to be 
called judges, and not rather parricides of their country — have 
given to the state, than when they banished that very man, 
who, when preetor, delivered the republic from a neighbour- 
ing, and who, when consul, sav'd it from a civil war. 

Sometimes this figure comes after the sense is 
completed, and then the preceding member closes 
without the break : but in this case we may make 
a pause after the first words of the correction, as 
if to demur and to correct ourselves in order to 
rectify an oversight. This may be exemplified 
in the following passage of Cicero's Third 
Philippic. 

Octavius Caesar, though but a youth, nay, rather a boy, in- 
spired with an incredible and divine spirit and courage, at that 
very time when the fury of Antony was at its height, and when 
his cruel and pernicious return was so much dreaded, when we 
neither solicited nor imagined nor desired it, because it seemed 
utterly impracticable,raised a most powerful army of invincible 
veterans ; for which service he threw away his own estate ; 
but — I have used an improper word — he did not throw it away, 
he bestowed it for the salvation of the commonwealth. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 199 

A pause at but and word, in the latter part of the 
sentence, will mark the correction more stroiifflv. 
It may be remarked also, that though this figure 
must be pronounced in a lower tone of voice than 
the former part of the sentence, it ought to have 
much more force and dignity. 

Anastrophe. 

Anastrophe, or Inversion, is a figure by 
which we place last, and perhaps at a great dis- 
tance from the beginning of the sentence, what, 
according to the common order, should have been 
placed first. 

Milton begins his Paradise Lost by a beautiful 
example of this figure. 

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world, and all our wo. 
With loss of Eden, till one greater man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat ; 
Sing, heav'nly Muse ! that on the secret top 
Of Oreb or of Sinai didst inspire 
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed 
In the beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth 
Rose out of Chaos. 

The natural order of the words in this passage 
would have been, Heav'nly Muse, sing of man's 
first disobedience, &c. — and in this arrangement 
of the words no pause is necessary between the 
verb sing and its object, of man's first disobe- 
dience, &c. ; but when the object of the verb, 
with all its concomitants, are placed before the 
verb, as in the example, we then find the pause 
preceding the verb sing increase in proportion to 
its distance from the beginning of its object, of 
man's first disobedience, &c. 

It may be laid down as a good general rule, 
that whenever the natural order of the words is 



200 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

changed, there must be a pause between those 
portions that are disarranged, though no pause 
would be necessary, if the words were in their 
natural order. Thus in the following passage 
from the same author: 

Th'angelic blast 
Fill'd all the regions : from their blissful bow'rs 
Of amaranthine shade, fountain, or spring, 
By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
In fellowship of joy, the sons of light 
Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
And took their seats. 

Paradise Lost, b. xi. v. 76. 

The natural order of the words would be, 
The sons of light hasted from their blissful 
bow'rs, &c. where we may observe that a very 
small pause, if any, would be admitted at hasted 
in this order of the words, but that, as they stand 
in Milton, a considerable pause is required at 
this word, and a still greater at joy, as it is 
here the inversion ends and the natural order 
begins. 

We have in Lowth's Grammar another in- 
stance of the necessity of pausing when the or- 
der of the words is inverted, which is as worthy 
of being quoted for the good sense it contains 
as for the opportunity it affords of exemplifying 
the present rule. 

The connective parts of sentences are the most important of 
all, and require the greatest care and attention ; for it is by 
these chiefly that the train of thought, the course of reasoning, 
and the whole progress of the mind in continued discourse of 
all kinds, is laid open ; and on the right use of these the per- 
spicuity, that is, the first and greatest beauty of style, princi- 
pally depends. Loivth's Gramma?; p. 128. 

The adverbial phrases, by these chiefly, and on 
the right use of these, are classes of words which 
would require a pause, even if they came in 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. so I 

their natural order, after the verbs laid open and 
depends ; but, as they come before these verbs, 
and are separated from them by many other 
words, a long* pause after each is indispensably 
necessary, though in no edition of this grammar 
that I have seen is there any pause marked. 



Apdstrophe. 

Apostrophe, or Occasional Address, is a fi- 
gure in which we interrupt the current of our 
discourse, and turn to another person, or to some 
other object different from that to which our 
address was at first directed. This figure is sel- 
dom used; but when, in a violent commotion, 
the speaker turns himself on all sides, and ap- 
peals to the living and the dead, to angels and to 
men, to rocks, groves, and rivers, for the justice 
of his cause, or calls upon them to sympathize 
with his joy, grief, or resentment. 

The tone of voice to be employed in pro- 
nouncing this figure, is as various as the passions 
it assumes; but as these passions arc generally 
very vehement, a higher and louder tone of voice 
is generally necessary in the apostrophe than in 
that part of the oration that precedes it. When 
we address inanimate things, especially if they 
are supposed to be distant, the voice must rise 
in height and loudness, as if the speaker were 
resolved to make them hear him. In this man- 
ner we may presume Cicero pronounced that 
fine apostrophe in his oration for Milo, when, 
speaking of the death of Clodius, he says : 

O ye judges! it was not by human counsel, nor by any thing 
less than the immediate care of the immortal gods, that this 
event has taken place. The very divinities themselves, who 
beheld that monster-fall, seemed to be moved, and to have in- 



202 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

flicted their vengeance upon him. I appeal to, I call to wit- 
ness, you, O ye hills and groves of Alba ! you, the demolished 
Alban altars ! ever accounted holy by the Romans, and coeval 
with our religion, but which Clodius, in his mad fury, having 
first cut down and levelled the most sacred groves, had sunk 
under heaps of common buildings ; I appeal to you, I call you 
to witness, whether your altars, your divinities, your powers, 
which he had polluted with all kinds of wickedness, did not 
avenge themselves when this wretch was extirpated ? And 
thou, O holy Jupiter ! from the height of thy sacred mount, 
whose lakes, groves, and boundaries, he had so often contami- 
nated with his detestable impurities : — and you, the other 
deities, whom he had insulted, at length opened your eyes to 
punish this enormous offender. By you, by you, and in your 
sight, was the slow, but the righteous and merited vengeance 
executed upon him. 

In pronouncing this passage, it is evident that 
the speaker must raise his voice at I appeal, &c. 
and, with a force and rapidity of bordering on en- 
thusiasm,, continue the voice in this pitch till 
the invocation of Jupiter, who, as the supreme 
being, is supposed to be present, and to be too 
sacred to be addressed with the same violence 
as inanimate objects ; for which reason the 
speaker must lower his tone into a solemn mo- 
notone, and continue in his lower tone with in- 
creasing force to the end. 



Asyndeton and Polysyndeton. 

Asyndeton and Polysyndeton or Omission 
and Redundance of Copulatives, are figures by 
which the thought and language are strength- 
ened and invigorated either by leaving out or re- 
peating the conjunctive particles. The learned 
Dr. Ward says, that " the Asyndeton leaves out the 
" connecting particles, to represent either the 
fc celerity of an action or the haste and eager- 
ff ness of the speaker : and that the Polysyndeton 
" adds a weight and gravity to an expression, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 203 

<c and makes what is said to appear with an air 
" of solemnity, and, by retarding- the course of 
cc the sentence, gives the mind an opportu- 
" nity to consider and reflect upon every part 
« distinctly/' 

System of Oratory, vol. ii. pp. 50, 51. 

That these figures are very properly employed 
to signify swiftness or slowness of thought or 
action it cannot be denied ; but that they are 
not always so employed is evident from a thou- 
sand examples. But though we frequently omit 
the particles, for the sake of a greater variety 
and compactness of style, and to avoid a too 
tedious repetition, yet we ought never to intro- 
duce them but where the thought requires it, 
and where they seem to accumulate force and 
emphasis to a subject. 

There is an example of both these figures in 
a passage of Demosthenes, which may serve to 
explain these observations. 

For as to naval power, and the number of forces, and re- 
venues, and a plenty of martial preparations, and, in a word, 
as to other things that may be esteemed the strength of a state, 
these are all both more and greater than in former times ; but 
all these things are rendered useless, inefficacious, abortive, 
through the power and corruption. Philippic iii. 

In the first part of this sentence, the repetition 
of the conjunction and seems to add to the 
strength of the particulars it enumerates, and 
each particular demands a deliberate and em- 
phatic pronunciation in the rising inflexion ; but 
the last part of the sentence, without the particles, 
being expressive of the impatience and regret of 
the speaker, requires a swifter pronunciation of 
the particulars. 

In the exordium to Cicero's Second Oration 



204 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

gainst Catiline, we have an instance of the 
Asyndeton which is much celebrated. 

At length, at length, O Romans! have we driven, or dis- 
patched, or forced into a voluntary retreat, Lucius Catiline, 
intoxicated with insolence, breathing out guilt, impiously me- 
ditating the destruction of his country, and threatening you 
and this city with all the calamities of fire and sword. He is 
gone, he is vanished, he is escaped, he is sallied out. 

The latter member of this passage, which 
forms the figure Asyndeton, must be pronounced 
with a swiftness expressive of the flight of Cati- 
line ; but this swiftness should rather be in the 
pronunciation of the words themselves than in 
omitting the pauses between them : for it may 
be laid down as a good general rule, that where- 
ever there is a particle omitted there must al- 
ways be a pause; and though in the present 
example the pauses should not be so long as in 
solemn and deliberate pronunciation, yet it 
ought to be quite as perceptible, and bear the 
same proportion to the time taken up in deliver- 
ing the words. 

These figures partake of the nature of the 
Aparithmesis, or Enumeration, and require the 
same inflexion of voice on each particular, as in 
the Series or Climax ; but as was before observed, 
though the Polysyndeton, or repetition of par- 
ticles, generally requires a solemn, deliberate, 
and emphatic pronunciation on each particular, 
the Asyndeton, or omission of particles, does 
not always require a greater swiftness and pre- 
cipitancy. 

I shall illustrate both these positions by exam- 
ples from the Scripture : 

But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, 
gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance ; against 
such there is no law. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 205 

In pronouncing this passage, we find it ne- 
cessary to pause considerably after each word, 
that each may be distinctly apprehended ; no- 
thing like swiftness or precipitancy is required 
here, but a calmness and deliberation suited to 
the sense of the text : but, in the following pas- 
sage from Romans, viii. 35, every particular re- 
quires a degree of emphasis. 

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ ? shall tribu- 
lation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, 
or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these things we are more than 
conquerors, through him that loved us. 

Here the members of the sentence, being in- 
terrogations beginning with a verb, require the 
rising inflexion approaching to a monotone, 
with a considerable stress upon each, but particu- 
larly on the last, where the voice must slide 
much higher than on the rest; but each por- 
tion in the succeeding beautiful climax must 
have the falling inflexion, except the last, at 
creature : 

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life ; nor angels, 
nor principalities, nor powers; nor things present, nor things 
to come ; nor height nor depth : nor any other creature, shall 
be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
Jesus our Lord. 

This passage contains five portions of words, 
each portion, except the last, forming a class of 
words associated either by their similitude or op- 
position : each of these classes, except the last, 
requires the falling inflexion, with some degree 
of emphasis on the last word. The voice must 
be low, firm, and deliberate, upon the first por- 
tion at lifp 9 and increase its force, loudness, and 
elevation, by the smallest degrees; and in the 
same inflexion on powers, come, and depth ; on 



206 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

creature the voice should adopt the rising inflex- 
ion, and then lower its tone deliberately and gra- 
dually to the end. 

Enantiosis. 

En4ntiosis, or Antithesis, is a figure, by 
which things, very different or contrary-, are con- 
trasted or placed together, that they may mutu- 
ally set off and illustrate each other. 

Few of the figures of rhetoric derive more 
beauty from a proper pronunciation than this. 
The understanding is not more enlightened by 
a contrast in the thought, than the ear is gratified 
by expressing this contrast with a suitable anti- 
thesis of the voice. Nothing can better illus- 
strate the force and beauty of this figure than a 
passage in Sterne's sermon on the house of mourn- 
ing and the house of feasting, where, describing 
the house of feasting, he says : 

When the gay and smiling aspect of things has begun to 
leave the passages to a man's heart thus thoughtlessly unguard- 
ed — when kind and caressing looks of every object without 
that can flatter his senses, have conspired with the enemy with- 
in to betray him and put him off his defence — when music like- 
wise hath lent her aid, and tried her power upon the passions — 
when the voice of singing men and the voice of singing women, 
with the sound of the viol and the lute, have broken in upon 
his soul, and in some tender notes have touched the secret 
springs of rapture — that moment let us dissect and look into 
his heart— see how vain ! how weak ! how empty a thing it is ! 
Look through its several recesses — those pure mansions formed 
for the reception of innocence and virtue — sad spectacle ! be- 
hold those fair inhabitants now dispossessed — turned out of 
their sacred dwellings, to make room — for what?— at the best 
for levity and indiscretion — perhaps for folly — it may be for 
more impure guests, which possibly, in so general a riot of 
the mind and senses, may take occasion to enter unsuspected 
at the same time. 

In pronouncing this passage, the voice ought 
to assume a plaintive tone approaching to a mo- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 207 

notone, and proceed in this manner till it comes 
to the springs of rapture, when the former of 
these words is to have the falling, and the latter 
the rising inflexion of voice, sliding up to a con- 
siderable height; then the voice must fall sudden- 
ly into a low tone, with a severity approaching to 
indignation, at the really wretched state of the 
heart, under the disguise of so much seeming 
happiness. This sudden alteration of the voice, 
from high and plaintive to low and indignant, 
will wonderfully set oft' the contrast in the de- 
scription, and give double energy and beauty to 
the thought. 

We have another instance of ibis beauliful 
figure in Shippen's speech, in Chandler's Parlia- 
mentary Debates, where he shows the inefficacy 
of honest counsel, when once vice and luxury 
have gained the ascendant in a state. 

If there are in this new parliament any men devoted to their 
private interest, and who prefer the gratification of their passions 
to the safety and happiness of their country, who can riot with- 
out remorse in the plunder of their constituents, who can forget 
the anguish of guilt in the noise of a feast, the pomp of a draw- 
ing-room, or the glare of an equipage, and think expensive 
wickedness and the gaitics of folly equivalent to the lame 
of fidelity and the peace of virtue — to them I shall speak to no 
purpose; for I am tar from imagining any power in my words 
to gain those to truth who have resigned their hearts to avarice 
orambitioD, or to prevail upon men to change opinions, which 
they have indeed never believed, though they are hired to 
assert them. For there is a degree of wickedness which no 
reproof or argument can reclaim, as there is a degree of stu- 
pidity which no instruction can enlighten. 

Chandlers Parliamentary Debates, J 74-1. 

In pronouncing this passage, we must begin 
the first part in a plaintive tone of voice, and 
continue this tone till the word virtue ; here the 
voice must be suspended some time in the ri- 
sing inflexion, after which it must drop into a low 
solemn tone on to them, &c. — this tone must con- 
tinue nearly till the end, w hen, at For there is 



208 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

&c. to this tone must be added a degree of aspe- 
rity and indignation, with which the passage 
must close. s 

There are certain examples of this figure, 
where,, though the words and thoughts are op- 
posed to each other, they are in so small por- 
tions, and succeed each other so rapidly, that it 
would have the appearance of affectation to 
endeavour to make any great difference in pro- 
nouncing them. Thus Cicero, speaking of 
Pompey, says: 

He waged more wars than others had read; conquered more 
provinces than others had governed: and had been trained up 
from his youth to the art of war; not by the precepts of others, 
but by his own commands; not by miscarriages in the field, 
but by victories ; not by campaigns, but by triumphs. 

Pro Leg. Man. c. x. 

In pronouncing this passage, the opposing 
parts ought to have no more diversity than 
what is required by the harmony of the sen- 
tence i but, in order to show the contrasted 
parts distinctly, it will not be improper to make 
a longer pause between them than if there were 
no opposition in the sense; a pause of some 
length at wars, provinces, others, and jield, will 
be quite sufficient to show the antithesis in the 
thought. 

The same observations are applicable to the 
other passage of Cicero, where, opposing the 
conduct of Verres, when governor of Sicily, to 
that of Marcellus, who took Syracuse, the capi- 
tal of that island, he says, 

Compare this peace, with that war; the arrival of this go- 
vernor, with the victory of that general ; his profligate troops, 
with the invincible army of the other; the luxury of the form- 
er, with the temperance of the latter; you will say that Syra- 
cuse was founded by him who took it, and taken by him nyIio 
held it when founded. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 209 

In pronouncing this passage, it will be neces- 
sary to make a considerable pause between each 
opposing part ; and this, with the emphasis that 
naturally falls on these parts, will sufficiently 
diversify them to the ear. 

There are other instances where, though the 
contrasted parts consist but of few words, they 
require, in pronouncing them, a diversity of 
voice. Thus in Blair's Sermon on Gentleness : 

As there is a worldly happiness which God perceives to be 
no more than disguised misery ; as there are worldly honours 
which in his estimation are reproach ; so there is a worldly 
wisdom which in his sight is foolishness. Of this worldly 
wisdom the characters are given in the Scriptures, and placed 
in contrast with those of the wisdom which is from above. 
The one is the wisdom of the crafty ; the other, that of the 
upright: the one terminates in selfishness ; the other in cha- 
rity : the one is full of strife and bitter envyings; the other of 
mercy and of good fruits. 

The first principal constructive part of the 
first sentence of this passage must be pronounced 
in a somewhat elevated tone of voice, and end 
with the rising inflexion at reproach: then, after 
a pause, the voice must drop into a somewhat 
lower tone, with which the last member must 
be pronounced. The opposing parts in the rest 
of the passage must be pronounced so as to pause 
after The one, &c. and give the first members a 
higher tone, ending with the rising inflexion on 
crafty, seljishness, and envyings ; then, after a 
pause, the last member must be pronounced in a 
somewhat lower tone, and end with the falling 
inflexion. 

Paralepsis. 

Paralepsis, or Omission, is a figure by which 
the orator pretends to conceal or pass by what he 
really means to declare and strongly to enforce. 



210 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Whatever we seem to give up, as a matter of 
small consequence, we generally pronounce in a, 
higher and softer tone ot voice than the rest : this 
is accompanied with an air of indifference that 
seems to make light of what we mention, and 
this indifference generally leads us to end the 
particulars with the suspension of voice properly 
called the rising* inflexion. Thus Cicero, in his 
defence of Sextius, introduces his character in 
the following manner, with a design of recom- 
mending him to the favour of the judges : 

I might say many things of his liberality, kindness to his 
domestics, his command in the army, and moderation during 
his office in the province ; but the honour of the state presents 
itself to my view, and calling me to it, advises me to omit 
these lesser matters. 

The first part of this sentence should be spoken 
in a soft high tone of voice, with an air of indif- 
ference, as if waving the advantages arising from 
his client's character ; but the latter part assumes 
a lower and firmer tone, which greatly enforces 
and sets off the former. 

The same observations hold good in the pro- 
nunciation of the following passage of his Ora- 
tion against Rullus, who had proposed a law to 
sell the public lands : 

I do not complain of the diminution of our revenues, and 
the woful effects of this loss and damage. I omit what may 
give every one occasion for a very grievous and just complaint, 
that we could not preserve the principal estates of the public, 
the finest possession of the Roman people, the fund of our pro- 
visions, the granary of our wants, a revenue entrusted with the 
state; but that we must give up those lands to Rullus, which, 
after the power of Sylla, and the largesses of the Gracchi, are 
yet left us ; I do not say, this is now the only revenue of the 
state, which, continues when others cease ; is an ornament 
in peace, fails us not in war, supports the army, and does not 
fear an enemy. I pass over all these things, and reserve them 
for my discourse to the people, and only speak at present of 
the danger of our peace and liberties. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 211 

Every member of this sentence, where there is 
a pause, must be pronounced with a rising in- 
flexion, commonly called a suspension of voice ; 
the whole must have an air of indifference, except 
the two or three last members, where the voice 
must fall into a lower and firmer tone at and 
reserve them, and continue in this tone to the 
end. 

Anacoenosis. 

Anacoenosis, or Communication, is a figure 
by which the speaker applies to his hearers or 
opponents for their opinion upon the point in 
debate. Thus Cicero, in his Oration for Csecina, 
appeals to Piso : 

Suppose, Piso, that any person had driven you from your 
house by violence, how would you have behaved ? 

A similar appeal lie makes use of in his Ora- 
tion for Rabirius. 

But what could you have done in such a case, and at such 
a juncture? — when to have sat still or to have withdrawn, would 
have been cowardice; when the wickedness and fury of Satur- 
ninus had sent for you into the Capitol, and the consuls had 
called you to protect the safety and liberty of your country ? 
Whose authority, whose voice, which party would you have 
followed ? and whose orders would you have chosen to obey ? 

" This figure/' says an ingenious author, " has 
" something of the air of conversation ; and 
<c though public discourses ought not to be turned 
" into mere conversation, yet a proper and decent 
(C mixture of such a sort of freedom entertains 
" our hearers, both on account of its variety, 
r f and its apparent condescension and good- 
" nature/' Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 166. 

From the account we have given of this figure, 
it is sufficiently plain, that it ought to be pro- 
nounced in an easy familiar middle tone of 

p 2 



212 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

voice ; without passion, and with such a frank- 
ness and openness of manner, as if we were fully 
satisfied of the justice of our cause, and venture 
it to be decided on the common principles of 
reason and equity. 

We have a shining example of this figure in the 
speech of the Lord Chief Justice to King Henry 
the Fifth, to excuse himself for committing him 
to prison for striking him in the execution of his 
office, when he was prince of Wales. 

I then did use the person of your father ; 

The image of his power lay then in me ; 

And in th' administration of his law, 

While I was busy for the commonwealth, 

Your highness pleased to forget my place, 

The majesty and pow'r of law and justice, 

The image of the king whom I presented, 

And struck me in the very seat of judgment ; 

Whereon, as an offender to your father, 

I gave bold way to my authority, 

And did commit you. If the deed were ill, 

Be you contented, wearing now the garland, 

To have a son set your decrees at nought, 

To pluck down justice from your awful bench, 

To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword 

That guards the peace and safety of your person, — 

Nay more, to spurn at your most royal image, 

And mock your working in a second body. 

Question your royal thoughts ; make the case yours ; 

Be now the father, and propose a son ; 

Hear your own dignity so much profan'd ; 

See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted; 

Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd ; 

And then imagine me taking your part, 

And in your pow'r so silencing your son. 

After this cold consid'rance, sentence me ; 

And, as you are a king, speak in your state 

What I have done that misbecame my place, 

My person, or my liege's sovereignty. 

The pronunciation of this speech will derive 
its greatest beauty from an attention to the Ana- 
coenosis, beginning at the eleventh line. The 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 213 

preceding lines must paint the dignity of the 
office, the atrocity of the blow, and the courage 
and resolution of the commitment ; but the suc- 
ceeding lines must assume a different style : they 
must begin by a frankness of manner, approach- 
ing to indifference, but gradually assume a dig- 
nity, as they begin to describe objects of power, 
authority and grandeur. An easy and almost 
indifferent manner takes place again at Question 
your royal thoughts ; but this manner, as in the 
preceding part, naturally slides into one more 
dignified at Hear your own dignity so much pro- 
fan'd, &c. — but at the lines And then imagine 
me, &c. the voice again assumes the plain, open, 
frank, indifferent tone, till the concluding lines 
After this cold consid 'ranee, &c. when the voice 
assumes a firmer tone, to indicate a consciousness 
of the justice of the cause, and a confidence in 
the uprightness of the determination. 

Hypotyposis. 

Hypotyposis, or Lively Description, is a re- 
presentation of things in such strong and glowing 
colours, as to make them seem painted or trans- 
acted to the hearer's imagination. 

This is the definition of the Hypotyposis, 
which we find in most of our books of rhetoric : 
but if the definition of a figure, which has been 
given at the beginning of this part of the pre- 
sent work, be a just one, Description is no 
more entitled to the appellation of a figure than 
Narration, Contemplation, Reflection, or any 
similar expression of the mind. But though, ri- 
gorously speaking, it may not be a figure of rhe- 
toric, it is a species of writing which deserves a 
very particular consideration, as it is the sub- 
ject of delivery ; for there is no part of compo* 



214 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

sition which requires greater taste and judg- 
ment than that where the description of objects 
is strong and vivid, and where the sound seems 
an echo to the sense. Where the objects are 
common, and the subject without passion, the 
pronunciation ought to be plain, simple, and 
narrative ; but where the objects are grand, sub- 
lime, and terrific, the delivery ought to assume 
those emotions which the objects naturally excite. 
Where we describe passion, our pronunciation 
must be impassioned, and thus we shall paint or 
draw a picture as it were of the objects, cr trans- 
actions we delineate. Those who perceive the 
necessity and beauty of this rhetorical colouring, 
and yet want taste and discernment to know 
where to bestow it, and in what degree, generally 
overcharge the picture, and give such a carica- 
ture as disgusts us more than a total absence of 
every ornament. Great care therefore must be 
taken in the delivery of description, that we do 
not become actors instead of describers, and mi- 
mics instead of relators. 

Cicero's character of Catiline is a well-known 
instance of this figure. 

He had the appearance of the greatest virtues; he made use 
of many ill men to carry on his designs, and pretended to be in 
the interest of the best men; he had a very engaging behaviour, 
and did not want industry or application ; he gave into the 
greatest dissoluteness, but was a good soldier. Nor do I believe 
there ever was the like monster in the world, made up of such 
jarring and repugnant qualities and inclinations. Who at one 
time was more acceptable to the best men, and who more inti- 
mate with the worst? Who was once a better patriot, and who a 
greater enemy to the state? Who more devoted to pleasures, who 
more patient in labours? Who more rapacious, and yet more 
profuse ? He suited himself to the humours of all he conversed 
with ; was serious with the reserved, and pleasant with the 
jocose; grave with the aged, and facetious with the young; 
bold with the daring, and extravagant with the profligate. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 215 

This description of Catiline, though uncom- 
monly strong and animated, contains no striking 
imagery, no objects of terrour or surprise, no 
traits of passion or emotion, and therefore re- 
quires nothing in the pronunciation but a plain- 
ness and distinctness ; long pauses between the 
contrasted parts, and a somewhat higher tone of 
voice in the former than the latter, in order the 
better to show the opposition : thus the clause, 
Who at one time was more acceptable to the best 
men, should be pronounced in a more elevated 
tone than, and who more intimate with the xvorst? 
and so of the rest. 

But in his description of the behaviour of 
Verres to a Roman citizen in the island of Sicily, 
we must accompany the words with every passion 
excited by the objects, or we shall deprive the 
passage of its greatest force and beauty. 

The unhappy man, arrested as he was going to embark for 
his native country, is brought before the wicked praetor. With 
eyes darting fury, and a countenance distorted with cruelty, 
he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and 
rods to be brought; accusing him, but without the least shadow 
of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a 
spy. It was in vain that the unhappy man cried out, " I am a 
Roman citizen! I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is 
now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence!" The blood- 
thirsty praetor, deaf to all he could urge in his own defence, 
ordered the infamous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fa- 
thers, was an innocent Roman citizen publicly mangled with 
scourging, whilst the only words he uttered, amidst his cruel 
sufferings, were, " I am a Roman citizen!" With these he 
hoped to defend himself from violence and infamy; but of so 
little service was this privilege to him, that, while he was thus 
asserting his citizenship, the order was given for his execution 
— for his execution upon the cross ! 

The beginning of this passage should be ac- 
companied with pity, and something of the dis- 
may of a person under the unhappy circum- 
stances described. The description of the praetor 



216 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR 

should have a tincture of that fierceness in it 
which is so strongly marked. It was in vain the 
unhappy man cried out, I am a Roman citizen ! 
&c. should be pronounced in a loud complaining 
tone : and at The blood-thirsty pr&tor, the voice 
must again assume a tincture of the fierce. The 
address to the judges should be pronounced in a 
lower and more tranquil tone., partaking strongly 
of the grief such a scene must excite in every 
generous breast; and the conclusion, for his 
execution on the cross, must be accompanied with 
a low hoarse tone of voice, expressive of that 
horrour every Roman must feel to have a citizen 
suffer a death destined to the meanest slaves. — 
How little did the orator suspect that this death, 
the ignominy of which seems to make him 
shudder, was soon to become the joy and exulta- 
tion of the world ! 

Instances of the Hypotyposis in verse are 
innumerable. Description seems the province 
of poetry. The scenery of nature naturally 
inspires us with numbers, and these numbers 
heighten and embellish the beauties of nature. 

What can be more beautiful than the picture 
of a country life drawn by Virgil, and copied by 
Dry den. 



Here easy quiet, a secure retreat, 

A harmless life, that knows not how to cheat, 

With home-bred plenty the rich owner bless, 

And rural pleasures crown his happiness. 

Unvex'd with quarrels, undisturb'd with noise, 

The country king his peaceful realm enjoys ; 

Cool grots and living lakes, the flow'ry pride 

Of meads, and streams that through the valley glide ; 

And shady groves, that easy sleep invite, 

And after toilsome days, a sweet repose at night. 

Georg, b. ii. v. 467. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 217 

This passage presents us with no sounding 
epithets, no animated strokes of passion ; but 
a judicious reader will not therefore suppose it 
devoid of expression: he will consider the dis- 
position such a scene would excite in the mind, 
and accompany his pronunciation with such 
tones as express this disposition. The tranquillity 
of this scene, therefore, must be expressed by a 
soft easy tone bordering on the plaintive ; it ad- 
mits of little or no variety, except dwelling a 
little longer than common on the word cool, the 
sound of which, it is presumed, is somewhat ex- 
pressive of the sense. 

Milton's description of rural solitude is a 
masterpiece of this kind. 

And when the sun begins to fling 

His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring 

To arched walks of twilight groves, 

And shadows brown that Sylvan loves, 

Of pine or monumental oak, 

Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, 

Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, 

Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt ; 

There in close covert by some brook, 

Where no profaner eye may look, 

Hide me from day's garish eye, 

While the bee, with honey 'd thigh, 

That at her flow'ry work doth sing, 

And the waters murmuring, 

With such concert as they keep, 

Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep. // Penscroso. 

The first line, and as far of the second as to 
beams, must be pronounced in a tone expressive 
of splendour ; the succeeding part of the line, 
and what follows it, must assume a cool tran- 
quil tone as far as haunt ; then the voice must 
fall into a lower tone approaching to a mono- 
tone, and proceed softly and slowly to the 
end. 



218 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

The description of a lady's toilet, in Pope's 
Rape of the Lock, is superlatively fine. 

And now unveil'd the toilet stands display'd, 
Each silver vase in mystic order laid. 
First rob'd in white, the nymph intent adores, 
With head uncover'd, the cosmetic pow'rs : 
A heav'nly image in the glass appears, 
To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears. 
Th' inferior priestess, at her altar's side, 
Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride. 
Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here 
The various ofFrings of the world appear. 
From each she nicely culls with curious toil, 
And decks the goddess with the glitt'ring spoil; 
This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, 
And all Arabia breathes from yonder box ; 
The tortoise here and elephant unite, 
Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white. 
Here files of pins extend their shining rows, 
Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux. 
Now awful beauty puts on all its arms, 
The fair each moment rises in her charms, 
Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace, 
And calls forth all the wonders of her face ! 
Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, 
And keener lightning quicken in her eyes. 
The busy sylphs surround their darling care : 
These set the head, and those divide the hair ; 
Some fold the sleeve, while others plait the gown ; 
And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own. 

This passage requires no great variety of voice,, 
but admits of considerable variety of expression ; 
and, as the style is mock-heroic, this expression 
may be much stronger than if the composition 
were simple and unaffected. A dignity, solem- 
nity, and importance of voice and manner must 
describe the toilet and the nymph's approach to 
it, in the first six lines ; but the fourth couplet 
must be expressive of the dread and caution with 
which a timid servant assists a haughty beauty. 
The succeeding couplet must have all the splen- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 219 

dour of pronunciation intimated by its objects, 
and the next two lines must abate of this splen- 
dour, to express the curious toil with which each 
is culled. The next four lines are to be as splen- 
did and glowing as possible. The files of pins 
must shine with great dignity and importance, 
while the several articles of the next line must 
be pronounced simply and without ornament ; 
but the succeeding couplet has an awfulness and 
dignity approaching to devotion : the next four 
lines abate of this dignity, to express rapture 
and surprise at such sudden and increasing flashes 
of beauty : while the four last lines descend to an 
expression of alertness and activity, concluding 
with a complacency and satisfaction, at having so 
well performed the important task. 

Under the figure called Hypotyposis may be 
classed such words as are naturally descriptive 
of the things they signify ; that is, such words as 
either from the softness or harshness, length or 
shortness, of the letters of which they are com- 
posed, are expressive of the nature of the ob- 
jects for which they stand ; or, as Pope has hap- 
pily expressed it, words, the sound of which is an 
echo to the sense. The occasional coincidence of 
the sound and sense of words has been an object 
of attention with all writers both ancient and 
modern, and those must be severe critics indeed 
who deny the propriety and beauty of this coin- 
cidence. It must be confessed that the affecta- 
tion of this, like every other affectation, is truly 
disgusting; but proves, at the same time, that 
when this coincidence of sound and sense is na- 
tural and unaffected, it is reallv an excellence: 
for though defects are sometimes the objects of 
imitation, they are not imitated as defects, but 



220 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

because they happen to be associated with some 
beauties which the imitator is unable to repre- 
sent. That there is much of imagination in this 
imitation of the sense by the sound of words, 
must be allowed. A judicious critic has very 
justly observed, that it most frequently exists 
only in the fancy of the writer or reader, and that 
the words we often suppose to echo the sense 
have no other resemblance than what arises from 
association*. But whence can arise the very 
general opinion that so many words are really 
expressive of the sense they stand for? It must 
be from their being generally accompanied by a 
certain emotion of mind, which the mean- 
ing of the words excite ; and this emotion of 
mind being constantly associated with the words, 
the very sound of the words, according to the 
laws of association, seems tinctured with the 
emotion, which naturally it has no relation to. 
This, however, sufficiently shows how natural it 
is for man to accompany his words with emo- 
tions, and to expect emotions when he sees the 
words that generally accompany them. Hence 
we may infer this general rule, that wherever 
there are words expressive of emotions, we ought 
to pronounce these words with the emotions 
they signify; that is, when the language is im- 
passioned, and the words are not merely narra- 
tive or didactic ; for in this case the words ex- 
pressive of passion are to be pronounced as cool- 
ly, as if they stood for the most uninteresting 
objects. Thus in Pope's Essay on Man : 

Love, Hope, and Joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train ; 
Hate, Fear, and Grief, the family of Pain ; 
These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd, 
Make and maintain the balance of the mind. 

* Rambler, No. 93. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 3*1 

It would border greatly on affectation to give 
the first line of this passage any distinct and 
marking expression of love, hope, and joy; or 
the second line any strong expression of hate, 
fear, and grief; because these passions are pre- 
sented to the mind in a philosophic view, and 
only mentioned as the materials of argument : 
but in the following passage from the same 
poet: 

Curs'd be the verse, how well soe'er it flow, 
That tends to make one worthy man my foe, 
Give virtue scandal, innocence a tear, 
Or from the soft-ey'd virgin steal a tear. 

The first line in this passage, I say, must be 
pronounced with all that keenness of resentment 
we naturally feel at injuries done to a worthy 
character : the second line must have a tincture 
of approbation on the word worthy, to express 
that character : and the third and fourth lines 
must assume somewhat of the plaintive, as they 
naturally excite pity for amiable characters in 
distress. 

But though the words themselves frequently 
direct us to the passion we ought to express, it 
must be carefully observed, that there is often 
a master-passion, which so swallows up the 
rest, that whatever passions or emotions are 
mentioned by this leading passion, they have 
scarcely any expression of their own, but seem 
to fall into the general expression of the passion 
that is principal. Thus when the duke of 
York, after describing the entry of Boling- 
broke, gives an account of that of King Richard, 
he says, 

As in a theatre the eyes of men, 

After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, 

Are idly bent on him who enters next, 



222 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Thinking his prattle to be tedious ; 

Ev'n so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes 

Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him! 

No joyful tongue gave him his welcome heme, 

But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, 

Which with such gentle sorrow he shook oft* 

(His face still combating with tears and smiles, 

The badges of his grief and patience) 

That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd 

The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, 

And barbarism itself have pitied him. 

But Heaven hath a hand in these events; 

To whose high will we bound our calm contents. 

Shakspeare s Bichard II. 

In this passage the prevailing passions are grief 
and pity : these must so possess the speaker,, in 
reciting these lines, that no expression of con- 
tempt must accompany that word in the fifth line, 
nor the least glimpse of joy or acclamation the 
lines that follow : a slight expression of meekness 
may accompany the word gentle in the ninth 
line, and the two last lines may with great pro- 
priety he a little diversified from the rest, by 
dropping in some measure the sorrowful, and as- 
suming the tone of reverence and resignation. 

Having premised these restrictions, it may be 
observed, that there are some words which afford 
a speaker a good opportunity of showing his ex- 
pression by the very nature of the letters of which 
they are composed. Thus the word all has a full, 
bold, open, sound, which will admit of being 
dwelt upon longer than common, especially if 
the language is animated ; either when empha- 
tical, as in Satan's speech to Beelzebub, in Pa- 
radise Lost, 



What though the field be lost, 



All is not lost: 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 223 

or as narrative, in the exordium to the First 
Book: 

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world, and all our wo, 
With loss of Eden, till one greater man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat ; 
Sing, heav'nly Muse 

In these instances, as in most others, we sel- 
dom hear the word all pronounced sufficiently 
full, and expressive of the extent of its significa- 
tion. The word shame will generally admit of 
being dwelt on in the same manner, as in the 
following example : 

Strong and weighty, O Catiline ! is the degree of the senate 
we can now produce against you; neither is wisdom want- 
ing in this state, nor authority in this assembly; but we, let me 
here take shame to myself, we, the consuls, are wanting in our 
duty. Cicero against Catiline, Orat. i. 

The word detestable is seldom used hut when 
the language is animated, and then an uncom- 
mon force upon the accented syllable test, that 
is, as Shakspcare calls it, in his picture of anger, 
(i holding hard the breath, and pronouncing it 
" through the fixed teeth/' will give it an ex- 
pression of detestation very suitable to the idea 
it excites. This manner of pronouncing may 
be supposed to be what Shakspcare meant in 
Hamlet's advice to the players, by " suiting the 
" action to the word and the word to tbe action." 
The actor cannot suit the word to the action 
any other way than by pronouncing it. Thus 
where Cassius, in Julius Caesar, describes Caesar 
and himself plunging into the Tiber : 

Upon the word, 



Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 
And bade him follow ; so indeed he did. 



224 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

We may with the utmost propriety give a 
downward plunge with the arm, to express the 
action implied by the word, and I think as pro- 
perly accompany this word and action with a full, 
deep, hollow, forcible tone of voice, as suitable 
to the action ; this, if overdone, or come tardy 
off, as Shakspeare expresses it, I own is truly dis- 
gusting : but let those who dissuade youth from 
attempting expression, by reminding them of the 
hazard they run, remember, that every excellence 
borders closely upon a blemish ; but that unless 
we risk these blemishes, we can never hope to 
arrive at excellence. 



Vision. 

Vision is a representation of things distant 
and unseen, as if they were actually present. 
This is so nearly related to the foregoing figure, 
as to be often confounded with it ; but there 
seems to be at bottom as much difference be- 
tween this figure, where the speaker sees the ob- 
ject or transaction, and the Hypotyposis, where 
he only describes it, as there is between a 
painting and an original. This is certain ; Vi- 
sion requires a much more animated pronuncia- 
tion than Description: in the former, the passions 
are excited by the sight of the objects them- 
selves ; in the latter, only by the remembrance 
of them. Vision, therefore, is a figure which is 
never employed, but when the composition is 
highly impassioned, and the writer becomes a 
species of actor. Accordingly we seldom find it 
employed in prose: it is among the poets we 
must look for instances; nor are they to be very 
frequently found even here; for we must not 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 225 

look upon such examples as are generally 
brought of this figure as real instances of it: this 
figure is never genuine but when the writer 
supposes he actually sees the only objects he de- 
scribes : so that however strong and glowing 
description may be, yet without this circum- 
stance it is not a true example of the figure in 
question. 

Pope has given us a striking instance of this 
figure in the beginning of his Elegy to the me- 
mory of an unfortunate Lady. 

What beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade, 

Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? 

'Tis she — but why that bleeding bosom gor'd, 

Why dimly gleams the visionary sword? 

O ever beauteous, ever friendly, tell, 

Is it in Heav'n a crime to love too well ? 

To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, 

To act a lover's, or a Roman's part ? 

Is there no bright reversion in the sky 

For those who greatly think or bravely die ? 

No composition can require a more animated 
pronunciation than this passage : if the reader 
does not repeat it nearly as if he saw a ghost 
beckoning to him, he cannot be said to deliver 
it properly ; the words would contradict the 
action. Whether an elegy may with propriety 
begin with so much fire is a question I leave 
others to decide ; but if so much fire be assumed 
in the writing, it ought undoubtedly to be ex- 
pressed in the speaking. The truth is, Pope's 
personal regard for the subject of this elegy, and 
his feelings for her unhappy fate, seem to have 
carried him beyond his usual accuracy in com- 
position, as well as his delicacy of moral senti- 
ments. For what can excuse his reproach of 
Heaven for disapproving of suicide, and his apo- 
logy for this atrocious crime, by treating those 



226 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

as mean spirited wretches who dare not be guilty 
of it* ? What is remarkable too is, that the lines 
in which these sentiments are conveyed are as 
feeble and childish as the sentiments are shock- 
ing ; but when the poet descends from this im- 
pious flight at Heaven, and describes the truly 
pitiable view of an amiable object driven to an 
act of desperation, and of the forlorn and neg- 
lected state of her poor remains in a foreign 
clime — then we feel all the magic of his pen — 
we sympathise with the object of his pity, and 
are transported to the very spot where she lies 
numbered with the unhonoured dead. These 
beauties are so bewitching as to make us forget 
the former part of the elegy, which, if united 
with lines less enchanting, would have startled 
us with their falsehood and pernicious tendency. 
But, to quit this digression (which it is hoped 
will be pardoned for the sake of unexperienced 
youth, to whom it may be useful,) we ought to 
pronounce the two first lines of this passage with 
a strong expression of surprise, mixed with some 
degree of fear, — the voice assuming a high and 
soft tone. 'Tis she must be pronounced with a 
suddenness expressive of joy at having disco- 
vered a lost, loved object ; and the rest of the 
passage must assume the plaintive, with the 

* Why bade ye else, ye pow'rs ! her soul aspire 
Above the vulgar flight of low desire ? 
Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes, 
The glorious fault of angels and of gods: 
Thence to their images on Earth it flows, 
And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows. 
Most souls, 'tis true, peep out but once an age, 
Dull sullen pris'ners in the body's cage; 
Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years 
Useless, unseen, like lamps in sepulchres ; 
Like eastern kings, a lazy state they keep, 
And, close confin'd to their own palace, sleep. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 227 

voice in the rising inflexion at the end of every 
second line. 

Shakspeare's description of Dover Cliff is a 
beautiful instance of this figure : for it is not the 
description of a thing past or absent, but as ac- 
tually present to the speaker. 

Come on, sir, here's the place — stand still. How dreadful 

And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low ! 

The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, 

Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down 

Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! 

Methinks he seems no bigger than his head ! 

The fishermen that walk upon the beach 

Appear like mice; and yon tall anchoring bark 

Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy 

Almost too small for sight. The murm'ring surge, 

That on the unnumber'd pebbles idly chafes, 

Cannot be heard so high. Til look no more, 

Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 

Topple down headlong. Shakspeare's King Lear. 

This description commences, after a long 
pause, in a low tone of voice, expressive of sur- 
prise and fear, at How dreadful, &c. The crozes 
and choughs, &c. must have more of surprise 
and less of fear, and be in a somewhat higher 
tone of voice. The next sentence assumes a lower 
tone, with more of fear, especially on the excla- 
mation, dreadful trade ! The succeeding sen- 
tences have a little lighter tone of voice, and more 
of surprise, with a very considerable pause after 
each, as if the speaker took some time to consider 
the object before he described it. The last sen- 
tence concludes in a lower tone, expressive of 
uneasiness at the consequences of continuing any 
longer on so dreadful a precipice. 



« 2 



228 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



Simile. 

. This figure maybe justly esteemed one of the 
most useful lights and greatest ornaments of 
composition. In prose it greatly clears and en- 
forces a thought^ and in poetry wonderfully en- 
livens and embellishes it. Little can be said 
respecting the pronunciation of this figure when 
in prose, only it may be remarked, that it gene- 
rally admits of a longer pause than ordinary be- 
fore it, that the reader may be prepared for the 
transition. Thus in Cicero's First Oration 
against Catiline : 

If, in so dangerous a rebellion, this parricide alone should 
be exterminated, we may perhaps for a short time seem to be 
relieved from anxiety and terrour ; but the danger will re- 
main, and will be wholly shut up in the veins and bowels of 
the commonwealth. As men grievously sick, when they are 
in the burning heat of a raging fever, upon taking a draught of 
cold water seem at first to be refreshed by it, but afterwards 
are more heavily and violently attacked by their distemper ; 
in like manner this disease, under which the republic labours, 
will gain a respite by the extinction of Catiline, but will after- 
wards, as the rest of his accomplices still survive, return upon 
us with redoubled fury. 

The simile in this passage has nothing in it 
that requires a pronunciation different from the 
rest ; but in poetry this figure always admits of 
being pronounced in a lower tone of voice than 
the preceding lines ; and this tone generally falls 
into the plaintive, and approaches to a mono- 
tone. For as the mind in forming a simile is 
seldom agitated with any very strong passion, 
that tone of voice which expresses serene, tran- 
quil contemplation, seems to be the tone suitable 
to the simile : and this, if I am not mistaken, will 
be found to be the plaintive tone, approaching 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 229 

to a monotone. Not that this monotone is to be 
continued through the whole simile : if it does 
but commence with a monotone, it may slide 
gradually into such a diversity of inflexion as the 
sense seems to require. So in that beautiful 
simile in Parners Hermit, where a pious mind, 
agitated with doubts, is compared to a calm lake 
disturbed by a falling stone : 

A life so sacred, such serene repose, 
Seem'd Heaven itself, till one suggestion rose,— 
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey; — 
This sprung some doubt of Providence's sway^ 
80 when a smooth expanse receives impress'd 
Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast, 
Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow, 
And skies beneath with answ'ring colours glow; 
But if a stone the gentle sea divide, 
Swift ruffling circles curl on every side ; 
And glimm'ring fragments of a broken sun, 
Banks, trees, and skies, in thick disorder run. 

In reading this simile, the voice should fall 
into a plaintive monotone at So when a smooth 
expanse, and continue this tone till the words 
xcafry breast, the first of which must have the 
falling, and the last the rising inflexion. The 
next couplet must be pronounced differently, 
that is, the rising inflexion on grow, and the 
falling on glow, to express the portion of perfect 
sense it includes. The rest of the simile must be 
pronounced with considerable variety : the voice 
must assume a brisker, swifter tone, and the in- 
flexions must be various, to express the variety of 
objects thrown together on a sudden. 

But in the following simile, from the same 
beautiful poem, where the youth shows the her- 
mit the cup he has stolen, the voice must con- 
tinue in a monotone till the last member, and 



230 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

looks with fear, which must end with the rising 
inflexion : 

Then pleas'd and thankful from the porch they go, 
And, but the landlord, none had cause of wo : 
His cup was vanish'd ; for, in secret guise, 
The younger guest purloin'd the glitt'ring prize. 

As one who spies a serpent in his way, 
Glist'ning and basking in the summer ray, 
Disorder'd stops, to shun the danger near, 
Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear, — 
So seem'd the sire, when, far upon the road, 
The shining spoil his wily partner show'd. 

The same observations may be applied to a 
simile in a beautiful poem called The Shipwreck, 
canto ii. v. 175 : 

While o'er the foam the ship impetuous flies, 
Th* attentive pilot still the helm applies : 
As in pursuit, along th' aerial way, 
With ardent eye the falcon marks his prey, 
Each motion watched of the doubtful chace, 
Obliquely wheeling/ though the liquid space ; 
So, govern'd by thfe steersman's glowing hands, 
The regent helm hier motion still commands. 

Here the voice falls into a lower tone at the 
third line, and continues this tone to the end of 
the fourth, which concludes with the rising in- 
flexion : the next couplet requires exactly the 
same tone of voice, but must have the rising in- 
flexion in a somewhat higher tone on space, 
when, after a long pause, the voice begins the 
last couplet in a higher tone than the two pre- 
ceding ones, and admits of a variety of inflexion 
on several of its parts. 

But when in descriptive poetry a simile is in- 
troduced to illustrate some grand or terrible ob- 
ject, the monotone is no less suitable than in 
placid subjects. This may be illustrated by a 
passage from the beautiful poem last quoted : 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 231 

Rous'd from his trance, he mounts with eyes aghast, 
When o'er the ship in undulation vast 
A giant surge down rushes from on high, 
And fore and aft dissever'd ruins lie ; 
As when, Britannia's empire to maintain, 
Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main, 
Around the brazen voice of battle roars, 
And fatal lightnings blast the hostile shores ; 
Beneath the storm their shattered navies groan, 
The trembling deep recoils from zone to zone : 
Thus the torn vessel felt th' enormous stroke, 
The beams beneath the thund'ring deluge broke. 

In reading this passage the voice ought to fall 
into a lower tone at the fifth line, and continue 
nearly in a monotone till thunder on the main, 
the first of which words must have the falling, 
and the last the rising inflexion : the next cou- 
plet assumes the same low monotone, and conti- 
nues it to hostile shores, which adopt the falling 
and rising inflexions like thunder and main : the 
succeeding couplet commences and continues 
the monotone like the last till the two words 
zone and zone, the first of which has the falling, 
and the last the rising inflexion, in a somewhat 
higher tone than in the two former lines ; but 
the last couplet, which applies the simile, be- 
gins in a high tone of voice, adopts the falling 
inflexion on vessel, and lowers the voice gradu- 
ally on the last line to the end. 

Prosopopcla. 

Prosopopeia, or Personification, is the in- 
vesting of qualities or things inanimate with the 
character of persons, or the introducing of dead 
or absent persons as if they were alive and pre- 
sent. This is at once one of the boldest and 
finest figures in rhetoric. Poets are prodigaj in 
their use of this figure, but orators more sparing, 



232 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

as nothing but a degree of enthusiasm can make 
it appear natural. The general rule for pro- 
nouncing this species of figure will be easily 
conceived, when we recollect that, wherever we 
give language to a character, we must give that 
language such a pronunciation as is suitable to 
that character. Thus, when Cicero introduced 
Milo as speaking to the citizens of Rome : 

Should he, holding up his bloody sword, cry out, u Attend, 
I pray, hearken, O citizens ! I have killed Clodius ; by this \ ) 
sword, and by this right hand, I have kept off his rage fronis^^K 
your throats, which no laws, no courts of judicature could re- 
strain ; it is by my means that justice, equity,, laws, liberty, 
shame, and modesty, remain in the city." — Is it to be feared 
how the city would bear this declaration ? Is there any one 
who, in such a case, would not approve and commend it ? 

In pronouncing this passage we must give the 
words of Milo all that energy and fire which we 
suppose would actuate him on such an occasion. 
The right arm must be lifted up and extended : 
the voice loud and elevated, as if speaking to a 
multitude, and almost every word must be em- 
phatical ; a long pause must precede the first 
question, which must begin in a low tone of 
voice, and end with the rising inflexion ; and as 
the last question is in opposition to the first, by 
contrasting approbation with disapprobation, it 
ought to be pronounced differently, and end with 
the falling inflexion : according to the rule laid 
down in the Elements of Elocution, vol.i. p. 297. 

But here a question will naturally arise about 
the force we are to gi\e to this figure when we 
only read it. Are we, it will be demanded, to 
give all the force and energy which we suppose 
Milo made use of, when we merely read it in 
Cicero's orations ? Yes, it may be answered, if we 
read these orations oratorically. But if we read 
them only to inform our hearers of the subject, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 233 

without assuming the character of the orator, it 
is certain that there is no necessity for the same 
force as in the rostrum. The character we as- 
sume when we take up the book makes all the 
difference. The pronunciation expected from a 
gentleman by a small circle of his friends, is as 
different from that of the orator, as the language 
of the orator is from the chit-chat of conversa- 
tion ; but if the gentleman should, for the enter- 
tainment of his friends, assume the character of 
the orator, it is then expected that he should 
give the composition all the force and energy of 
which it is susceptible, that is, all the force and 
energy that would become the characters whose 
words are assumed. Thus Milton may be read 
by a person who forms no pretensions to public 
notice, in a manner very differently from one 
who pronounces from the rostrum ; but if Mil- 
ton be read to the greatest advantage, it must 
certainly be in the latter, and not the former 
manner : though it must still be carefully ob- 
served, that these two manners differ only in de- 
grees of force; the tones, inflexions, and gesti- 
culations, are essentially the same in both. 

It was observed, in speaking of the Hypotvpo- 
sis, that there is often a leading passion, which 
so absorbs the mind of the speaker, as to give 
every other passion which passes through it a 
strong tincture of itself. This leading passion 
may, for the sake of distinction, be called pri- 
mary, and the other, secondary. If we so far 
forget the primary passion as to assume the se- 
condary entirely, we fall into mimicry, and ren- 
der our expression, however just in other re- 
spects, ridiculous. Thus, in the following speech 
of Hotspur in the first part of Henry the IVth : 



234 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



-For it made me mad 



To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, 

And talk, so like a waiting gentlewoman, 

Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (Heav'n save the mark!) 

And telling me the sovereign'st thing on Earth 

Was spermaceti for an inward bruise : 

And that it was great pity, so it was, 

That villanous saltpetre should be digg'd 

Out of the bowels of the harmless Earth, 

Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd 

So cowardly ; and but for these vile guns, 

He would himself have been a soldier. 

This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, 

I answer'd indirectly, as I said ; 

And I beseech you let not his report 

Come current for an accusation 

Betwixt my love and your high majesty. 

If the hero who pronounces this description 
were to divest himself of the primary passions, 
anger and contempt, and go so far into the se- 
condary as to assume the character he describes, 
we might laugh at him as a mimic, but should 
despise him as a man : — no ; while the leading 
passions, anger and contempt, have proper pos- 
session of him, they will keep him from a too ser- 
vile imitation of the object of his resentment ; but 
that a considerable degree of imitation should be 
allowed in the pronunciation of this passage is 
not to be disputed. The same observations hold 
good in pronouncing the words of Caesar, in a 
speech of Cassius, where he is describing that 
hero under the paroxysms of a fever : 



I did hear him groan : 



Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 
Alas ! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius ; 
As a sick girl Shakspeare's Julius Ccesar. 

If these words of Caesar, Give me some drink, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 235 

Titinius, were to be pronounced untinctured 
with that scorn and contempt with which Cassius 
is overflowing, and the small feeble voice of a 
sick person were to be perfectly imitated, it 
would be unworthy the character of Cassius, and 
fit only for a buffoon in a farce. 

These observations will lead us to decide in 
many other cases. There is a beautiful prosopo- 
peia of a hoary-headed swain, in Gray's Elegy 
in a Country Church-yard : 

For thee who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, 
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate, 

If chance, by lonely contemplation led, 

Some kindred spirit should inquire thy fate, 

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 
" Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, 

" Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, 
" To meet the sun upon the upland lawn, &c." 

Nothing can be conceived more truly ridicu- 
lous, in reading this passage, than quitting the 
melancholy tone of the relator, and assuming the 
indifferent and rustic accent of the old swain : 
and yet no errour so likely to be mistaken for a 
beauty by a reader of no taste : while a good 
reader, without entirely dropping the plaintive 
tone, will abate it a little, and give it a slight 
tincture only of the indifference and rusticity of 
the person introduced. 

But where the personification is assumed in- 
stantaneously, and does not arise out of any 
other passion, provided we are reading to the 
public, it ought to have exactly the same force 
and energy as in dramatic composition. Thus 
the sublime rage of Gray's Bard : 

Ruin seize thee, ruthless king, — 

Confusion on thy banners wait! 
Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing, 

They mock the air in idle state, 



236 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Helm nor hauberk's twisted mail, 
Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant, can avail 
To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, 
From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears. 

These lines, I say, demand an elevation of 
voice, and an expression of the utmost rage and 
resentment : but in this expression we must at- 
tend more particularly to the caution of Shak- 
speare, S( that in the very torrent, tempest, and 
" I may say, whirlwind of our passion, we must 
" acquire and beget a temperance that may give 
(e it smoothness." 

The personification of pride, in Pope's Essay 
on Man, is not preceded by any other pas- 
sion, and may therefore be allowed a forcible 
expression. 

Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine, 

Earth for whose use : Pride answers, " 'lis for mine. 

" For me kind nature wakes her genial pow'r, 

" Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r ; 

" Annual for me the grape, the rose renew 

" The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew ; 

" For me the mine a thousand treasures brings, 

" For me health gushes from a thousand springs ; 

" Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise, 

" My footstool Earth, my canopy the Skies." 

This passage admits of a certain splendour in 
the pronunciation expressive of the ostentation 
of the speaker, and the riches and grandeur of 
the objects introduced. 

Many other figures of Rhetoric might be ad- 
duced ; but as few of them deserve the appella- 
tion, and none seem to have any thing to entitle 
them to a peculiarity of pronunciation, I shall at 
present content myself vyith those I have given, 
and hope the reader will not find the directions I 
have added entirely useless. 



237 



MODULATION 



MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. 



One of the most difficult tilings in reading and 
speaking, where the subject is varied and im- 
passioned, is the modulation and management 
of the voice; and this perhaps of all the parts 
of elocution is the least capable of being conveyed 
by writing; but general rules and useful hints 
may certainly be given, which will put the pupil 
in a capacity of feeling his own powers, and of 
improving himself. Such rules and hints we 
shall endeavour to lay down in as clear and sum- 
mary a manner as possible. 

The first object of every speaker's attention is 
to have a smooth, even, full tone of voice : if na- 
ture has not given him such a voice, he must en- 
deavour as much as possible to acquire it; nor 
ought he to despair ; for such is the force of ex- 
ercise upon the organs of speech, as well as 
every other in the human body, that constant 
practice will strengthen the voice in any key we 
use it to ; that key therefore, which is the most 
natural, and which we have the greatest occasion 
to use, should be the key, which we ought the 
most diligently to improve. 

Every one has a certain pitch of voice, in 
which he is most easy to himself and most 



Q38 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

agreeable to others ; this may be called the na- 
tural pitch : this is the pitch in which we con- 
verse ; and this must be the basis of every im- 
provement we acquire from art and exercise. In 
order, therefore, to strengthen this middle tone, 
we ought to read and speak in this tone as loud 
as possible, without suffering the voice to rise 
into a higher key : this, however, is no easy 
operation : it is not very difficult to be loud in 
a high tone; but to be loud and forcible, without 
raising the voice into a higher key, requires 
great practice and management. The best me- 
thod of acquiring this power of voice is to prac- 
tise reading and speaking some strong, animated 
passages in a small room, and to persons placed 
at as small a distance as possible : for, as we na- 
turally raise our voice to a higher key when we 
speak to people at a great distance, so we na- 
turally lower our key as those we speak to come 
nearer: when, therefore, we have no idea of 
being heard at a distance, the voice will not be 
so apt to rise into a higher key when we want 
to be forcible ; and consequently exerting as 
much force as we are able in a small room, and to 
people near us, will tend to swell and strengthen 
the voice in the middle tone. A good practice 
on this tone of voice will be such passages as 
Macbeth's challenge to Banquo's ghost, or any 
other that are addressed immediately to a person 
near us : 

What man dare I dare : 
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, 
The arm'd rhinoceros, or ffyrcanian tyger ; 
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 
Shall never tremble. Be alive again, 
And dare me to the desert with my sword ; 
If trembling I inhibit, then protest me 
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow, — 
Unreal mock'ry, hence ! . 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 239 



Instructions for acquiring loxo Tones of Voice. 

As few voices are perfect, — those which have 
a good bottom often wanting a top, and inverse- 
ly, — care should be taken to improve by practice 
that part of the voice which is most deficient : 
for instance; if we want to gain a bottom, we 
ought to practise speeches which require exer- 
tion, a little below the common pitch; when we 
can do this with ease, we may practise them on 
a little lower note, and so on till we are as low 
as we desire ; for this purpose, it will be neces- 
sary to repeat such passages as require a full, 
audible tone of voice in a low key ; of this kind 
are those which contain hatred, scorn, or re- 
proach ; such as the following from Shakspeare, 
where Lady Macbeth reproaches her husband 
with want of manliness : 



■O proper stuff! 



This is the very painting of your fears : 
This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said, 
Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and start*, 
(Impostors to true fear) would well become 
A woman's story at a winter's fire, 
Authoris'd by her grandam. Shame itself! 
Why do you make sucli faces ? When all's done, 
You look but on a stool. 

Or when Lady Constance, in King John, re- 
proaches the Duke of Austria with want of 
courage and spirit : 

Thou slave ! thou wretch! thou coward ! 

Thou little valiant, great in villainy ! 

Thou ever strong upon the stronger side ! 

Thou Fortune's champion, thou dost never fight 

But when her humourous ladyship is by 

To teach thee -safety ! Thou art perjur'd too, 

And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, 

A ramping fool ; to brag, and stamp, and swear, 



240 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Upon my party ! thou cold-blooded slave ,• 
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side ? 
Been sworn my soldier ? bidding me depend 
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ? 
And dost thou now fall over to my foes ? 
Thou wear a lion's hide ! Doff it for shame, 
And hang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs. 

Or where the Duke of Suffolk, in Henry the 
Sixth, curses the objects of his hatred : 



■Poison be their drink, 



Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest meat they taste ; 
Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees, 
Their sweetest prospect murd'ring basilisks, 
Their softest touch as smart as lizard's stings, 
Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss, 
And boding screech-owls make the concert full ; 
All the foul terrours of dark-seated Hell ! 



Instructions for acquiring high Tones of Voice. 

When we would strengthen the voice in a 
higher note, it will be necessary to practise such 
passages as require a high tone of voice; and if 
we find the voice grow thin, or approach to a 
squeak upon the high note, it will be proper to 
swell the voice a little below this high note, and 
to give it force and audibility, by throwing it 
into a sameness of tone approaching the mono- 
tone. A passage in the Oration of Demosthenes 
on the Crown will be an excellent praxis on 
this tone : 

What was the part of a faithful citizen ? of a prudent, an 
active, and honest minister ? Was he not to secure Eubcea, as 
our defence against all attacks by sea? was he not to make 
Boeotia our barrier on the midland side? the cities bordering on 
Peloponnesus our bulwark on that quarter ? was not he to at- 
tend with due precaution to the importation of corn, that this 
trade might be protected through all its progress up to our own 
harbour? was he not to cover those districts which we com- 
manded, by seasonable detachments, as the Proconesus, the 
Chersonesus, and Tenedos? to exert himself in the assembly 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 241 

for this purpose ? while with equal zeal he laboured to gain 
others to our interest and alliance, as Byzantium, Abydos, and 
Eubcea ? Was he not to cut off the best and most important 
fesources of our enemies, and to supply those in which our 
country was defective ? — And all this you gained by my coun- 
sels and my administration. 

Leland's Demosthenes on the Croivn. 

It will naturally occur to every judicious 
reader, that this series of questions ought to rise 
gradually in force as they proceed, and there- 
fore it wili be necessary to keep the voice under 
at the beginning; to which this observation may 
be added, that as the rising inflexion ought to 
be adopted on each question, the voice will be 
very apt to get too high near the end ; for which 
purpose it will be necessary to swell the voice 
a little below its highest pitch; and if we can- 
not me with ease and clearness on every parti- 
cular to the last, we ought to augment the force 
on each, that the whole may form a species of 
climax. 



Instructions for the Management of the Voice. 

As the voice naturally slides into a higher tone, 
when we want to speak louder ; but not so easily 
into a lower tone, when we would speak more 
softly : the first care of every reader and speaker 
ought to be to acquire a power of lowering the 
voice when it is got too high. Experience 
shows us, that we can raise our voice at pleasure 
to any pitch it is capable of; but the same expe- 
rience tells us, that it requires infinite art and 
practice to bring the voice to a lower key when 
it is once raised too high. It ought therefore to 
be a first principle with all public readers and 
speakers, rather to begin under the common level 
of their voice than above it. 



242 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Every one, therefore, who would acquire a 
variety of tone in public reading or speaking, 
must avoid, as the greatest evil, a loud and vo- 
ciferous beginning ; and for this purpose it would 
be prudent in a reader or speaker to adapt his 
voice as if only to be heard by the person who is 
nearest to him ; if his voice has natural strength, 
and the subject any thing impassioned in it, a 
higher and louder tone will insensibly steal on 
him, and his greatest address must be directed 
to keeping it within bounds. For this purpose, 
it will be frequently necessary for him to recall 
his voice, as it were, from the extremities of his 
auditory, and direct it to those who are nearest 
to him. This it will be proper to do almost at 
the beginning of every paragraph in reading, 
and at the introduction of every part of the sub- 
ject in discourse. Nothing will so powerfully 
work on the voice, as supposing ourselves con- 
versing at different intervals with different parts 
of the auditory. 

If, in the course of reading, the voice should 
slide into a higher tone, and this tone should 
too often recur, care must be taken to throw in 
a variety, by beginning subsequent sentences in 
a lower tone, and, if the subject will admit of it, 
in a monotone ; for the monotone, it is pre- 
sumed, is the most efficacious means of bringing 
the voice from high to low, and of altering it 
when it has been too long in the same key. 
This may appear paradoxical to those who have 
not studied the subject; but if every sentence 
begins high and ends low, or inversely, though 
the sentences singly considered will have a va- 
riety, yet, if considered collectively, they will 
have a sameness ; so, by commencing sometimes 
with a monotone, though this monotone may 
have a sameness, yet, as associated with other 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 243 

tones, it will certainly augment the variety. 
Grand, solemn, awful subjects, admit best of the 
monotone : a beautiful example of this offers it- 
self in Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, on 
the power of Novelty : 

What need words 
To paint its power ? For this the daring youth 
Breaks from his weeping mother's anxious arms, 
In foreign climes to rove : the pensive sage, 
Heedless of sleep or midnight's harmful damp, 
Hangs o'er the sickly taper ; and untir'd 
The virgin follows with enchanted step, 
The mazes of some wild and wondrous tale, 
From morn to eve ; unmindful of her form, 
Unmindful of the happy dress that stole 
The wishes of the youth, when ev'ry maid 
With envy pin'd. Hence finally by night, 
The village matron, round the blazing hearth, 
Suspends the infant-audience with her tales, 
Breathing astonishment! of witching rhymes, 
And evil spirits; of the death-bed call 
To him who robb'd the widow, and devour'd 
The orphan's portion ; of unquiet souls, 
Ris'n from the grave to ease the heavy guilt 
Of deeds in life conceal'd; of shapes that walk 
At dead of night, and clank their chains, and wave 
The torch of Hell around the murd'rer's bed. 
At ev'ry solemn pause the croud recoil, 
Gazing each other speechless, and congeal'd 
With shiv'ring sighs; till, eager for th' event 
Around the beldame all erect they hang, 
Each trembling heart with grateful terrours quell'd. 

In reading this passage the voice ought to 
assume a lower tone, approaching to a mono- 
tone, at the word Hence, and to continue this 
tone for about two lines, when the voice will 
gradually go into a little variety, and slide into 
a somewhat higher tone ; it must again fall into 
a lower tone ; and be in a monotone at of shapes 
that walk at dead of night, &c. and continue in 
this tone, with very little alteration, to the end 
of the sentence. The rest of the passage must 

r 2 



244 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

preserve the lower tone, and be pronounced so 
as to be in some measure descriptive of those 
pleasing, anxious terrours so finely painted by 
the poet. 

If we are speaking extempore, and want to 
lower the voice, we ought, if possible, to intro- 
duce some passion that naturally assumes a lower 
tone, such as scorn, indignation, &c. Let us try 
to illustrate this by an example : 

Come, Antony, and young Oetavius, come 

Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius; 

For Cassius is a-weary of the world ; 

Hated by one he loves, brav'd by his brother, 

Check'd by a bondsman, all his faults observ'd, 

Set in a note-book, learnd, and conn'd by rote, 

To cast into his teeth. Oh, I could weep 

My spirit from my eyes ! There is my dagger, 

And here my naked breast — within, a heart 

Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold : 

If that thou need'st a Roman's, take it forth ; 

I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart : 

Strike as thou didst at Csesar ; for I know, 

When thou didst hate him worse, thou lov'dst him better 

Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius. 

Shakspeare's Julius Ccesar. 

The beginning of this speech naturally carries 
the voice into a high tone, and, the same passion 
continuing, there is no opportunity of lowering 
the voice till the eighth line, when indignation 
at Oh, I could weep my spirit from my eyes, na- 
turally throws the voice into a harsh, low tone, 
and gives it fresh force to pronounce the rest of 
the passage. 

Rules for Gesture. 

It may not perhaps be useless to bestow a few 
observations on Gesture. This part of delivery, 
though confessedly of such importance among 
the ancients, is that which is least cultivated 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. U5 

among the moderns. The reason of this diffe- 
rence is foreign to the present purpose : let it 
suffice that awkward or improper gesture is a 
greater blemish in reading and speaking than 
using none at all ; and that in this part of ora- 
tory particularly we ought to be more careful 
to avoid faults than to attain beauties. To de- 
scend, however, to a few of those particulars, 
to which it should seem we ought chiefly to 
attend — 

It may first be observed, that in reading, much 
less action is required than in speaking. When 
we read alone, or to a few persons only in pri- 
vate, we should accustom ourselves to read 
standing ; the book should be held in the left 
hand ; we should take our eyes as often as possi- 
ble from the book, and direct them to those that 
hear us. The three or four last words at least, 
of every paragraph, or branch of a subject, should 
be pronounced with the eye pointed to one of 
the auditors. When any thing sublime, lofty, 
or heavenly, is expressed, the eye and the right 
hand may be very properly elevated ; and when 
any thing low, inferior, or grovelling, is referred 
to, the eye and hand may be directed downwards : 
when any thing distant or extensive is mention- 
ed, the hand may naturally describe the distance 
or extent ; and when conscious virtue, or any 
heartfelt emotion or tender sentiment occurs, we 
may clap the hand on the breast exactly over the 
heart. 

In speaking extempore, we should be sparing 
of the use of the left hand, which, except in 
strong emotion, may hang easily down the side. 
The right hand ought to rise, extending from 
the side, that is, in a direction from left to right, 
till it is on a line with the hip; and then to be 
propelled forwards, with the fingers open, and 



246 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

easily and differently curved: the arm should 
move chiefly from the elbow, the hand seldom 
be raised higher than the shoulder, and, when it 
has described its object, or enforced its em- 
phasis, ought to drop lifeless down to the side, 
ready to commence action afresh. The utmost 
care must be taken to keep the elbow from in- 
clining to the body, and to let the arms, when 
not hanging at rest by the side, approach to the 
position we call a-kimbo ; we must be cautious 
too, in all action but such as describes extent or 
circumference, to keep the hand or lower part 
of the arm from cutting the perpendicular line 
that divides the body into right and left ; but, 
above all, we must be careful to let the stroke of 
the hand, which marks force or emphasis, keep 
exact time with the force of pronunciation ; that 
is, the hand must go down upon the emphatical 
word, and no other. Thus, in the execration of 
Brutus, in Julius Caesar : 

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, 
To lock such rascal counters from his friends, 
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, 
Dash him in pieces. 

Here the action of the arm which enforces the 
emphasis ought to be so directed, that the stroke 
of the hand may be given exactly on the word 
dash ; this will give a concomitant action to the 
organs of pronunciation, and by this means the 
whole expression will be greatly augmented. 
This action may be called beating time to the 
emphasis, and is as necessary in forcible and 
harmonious speaking, as the agreement between 
the motion of the feet and the music in dancing. 

Hence we may see the propriety of a common 
action in colloquial argumentation, when we 
wish to enforce the particulars of any series ; 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 247 

which is, by striking the table, at the end of each 
particular, in order to impress it on the mind. 
This is the impulse of unpremeditated feeling, 
and may be truly called the action of nature ; and 
if we can but acquire a habit of accompanying 
a premeditated series with the same action, we 
shall give it a force and beauty well worthy the 
attention of the speaker. 

But this emphatic stroke, as it may be called, 
must be used with judgment. The hand is to 
give it only to such members as require the fall- 
ing inflexion of voice, as those which require 
the rising may be properly accompanied by 
raising the hand. 

Thus, in Cicero's oration against Verres : 

I demand justice of you> fathers, upon the robber of the 
public treasury, the oppressor of Asia Minor and Pamphy'lia, 
the invader of the rights and privileges of Romans, the scourge 
and curse of Sicily. 

Here the hand may very properly enforce the 
two first members with the downward stroke, but 
at the third it should rise with the rising in- 
flexion, and fall with the falling upon the last. 

A question, therefore, requiring the rising 
inflexion on each particular, must have each 
particular accompanied by a rising of the hand, 
as in the following example : 

Would an infinitely wise being make such glorious beings 
for so mean a purpose ? Can he delight in the production of 
such abortive intelligence, such short-liv'd reasonable beings? 
Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted, capacities 
that are not to be gratified? Sped. N° 111. 

This elevation of the hand on each particular, 
will certainly mark that suspense and degree of 
surprise which are inseparable from this species 
of question, as the downward stroke of the hand 



248 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

accompanying the falling inflexion will give it 
double force and energy. 

If the student wishes to acquire an easy, un- 
affected, and regular style of action, he may 
consult Elements of Gesture, prefixed to The 
Academic Speaker. 

Thus has been attempted a regular course of 
instruction, which, from the new points of view 
in which several of the parts have been placed, 
it is hoped will be found generally useful. Those 
who wish to enter more fully into this subject, 
and have leisure and inclination for philosophical 
reflections upon it, may consult a work lately 
published, called Elements of Elocution ; where 
the nature of accent and emphasis^ the variation 
and modulation of the voice, and the expression 
of the passions, emotions, and sentiments, are 
copiously and systematically considered. 



249 



COMPOSITION 



In a Rhetorical Grammar, it may be justly ex- 
pected that Composition, which forms so essen- 
tial a part of Rhetoric, should not be entirely 
omitted : yet so much has been written on this 
part of the' art, and so ably has it been treated 
both by the ancients and moderns, that I might 
well excuse myself by referring my readers to 
Aristotle, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Quin- 
tilian, and Cicero, among the former, — and to 
Blair, Campbell, and Priestley, among the latter, 
— for every thing that learning, genius, and ex- 
perience, have produced upon the subject. What 
I can offer must be little more than gleanings, 
after so copious a harvest; and if even these 
gleanings should be claimed as the property of 
those who have preceded me, I shall willingly 
forego my claim, and be content to rank in this 
field as an humble compiler of a few scattered 
hints, which have occurred to me in a long 
course of teaching a part of Rhetoric which 
has not been so much laboured by my pre- 
decessors. 

In the first place, we must lay down as a 
maxim of eternal truth, that good sense is the 
foundation of all good writing. Understand a 
subject well, and you can scarcely write ill upon 
it. This, however, must be understood only of 
works of science: for works of imagination, be- 
side a thorough acquaintance with the subject 



250 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

we write upon, require a quick discernment of 
the happiest manner of presenting a subject to 
the mind. This opens a wide field to the powers 
of man, as it takes in all the beauties of poetry 
aud eloquence, — beauties which, though found- 
ed in nature and good sense, owe almost all 
their force to the imagination and address of the 
writer. 

Rhetoric, or the Art of Persuasion, therefore, 
seems to demand a union of both these powers. 
Good sense must be embellished with appro- 
priate language, vivid imagery, and agreeable 
variety ; and the imagination must be tempered 
by good taste, sound judgment, and chaste ex- 
pression. In short, the rhetorician should above 
all things attend to the advice of the poet : — 

And mark that point where sense and dulness meet. 

Popes Essay on Criticism. 

The first thing to be attended to in all com- 
position intended for delivery is, when we have 
fixed upon a subject, to form a plan of treat- 
ing it. 

The parts which compose a regular oration 
are these six ; — the exordium, or introduction ; 
the state and division of the subject; the narra- 
tion, or explication; the reasoning, or argu- 
ments; the pathetic parts; and the conclusion. 
It is not necessary that these must enter into 
every public discourse, or that they must always 
be admitted in the order in which they are here 
set down. There are many excellent discourses 
in which some of these parts are altogether 
omitted : but as they are the natural and con- 
stituent parts of a regular oration, and as in 
every discourse some of them must occur, it is 
agreeable to our present purpose to speak of 
each of them distinctly. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 251 

The introduction should be easy and natural: 
it should always be suggested by the subject ; 
nor should it be planned till after the writer has 
meditated in his own mind the substance of his 
discourse. In short, it should be like the pre- 
face to a book, which,, though presenting it- 
self first, is generally written last; for which 
reason 1 have seen a whimsical writer who 
placed it at the end instead of the beginning of 
his work. The introduction is seldom the place 
for vehemence or passion : the audience must 
be gradually prepared, before the speaker can 
venture on strong impassioned sentiments. A 
becoming modesty, therefore, is almost essen- 
tial to the composition as well as the delivery of 
this part of an oration. 

In dividing a subject, we must be always 
careful to follow the order of nature, beginning 
with the most simple points, such as are most 
easily understood and necessary to be first dis- 
cussed, and proceeding thence to those which 
are built upon the former, and which suppose 
them to be known. In short, the subject should 
be divided into those parts which grow out of 
each other, and into which they are most na- 
turally and easily dissolved. 

The Narration or Explication is that part of 
an oration which gives the true state of the 
question, unfolds every particular which be- 
longs to it, and prepares the minds of the hearers 
to attend to the arguments which are to be pro- 
duced in favour of the side we adopt. This 
part of the oration should be simple, nervous, 
and comprehensive, and the language plain, 
precise, and without ornament. 

The argumentative part of the oration must be 
considered as the strong bulwark of the rheto- 
rical fortification. The greatest care must be 



252 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

taken to select such arguments as are the best 
calculated to prove that what we advance is 
either true, right, or fit, or that it is profitable 
and good. Truth, duty, and interest, are the 
three great subjects of discussion among man- 
kind. But the arguments employed upon either 
of them are generally distinct; and he who 
mixes them all under one topic, which he calls 
his argument, as is too frequently done in ser- 
mons, will render his reasoning indistinct and 
inelegant. 

With respect to the different degrees of 
strength in arguments, the common as well as 
the most natural rule is to advance in the way 
of climax. Nor can I agree with Dr. Blair, 
or any other rhetorician, that any state of the 
question will authorise an orator to begin with 
his strongest argument, and end with his 
weakest. The last impression is generally what 
decides in popular addresses, and this should 
be nicely attended to. Besides, when once a 
point is proved, the multiplying of arguments 
only tends to weaken it ; for it ought to be ob- 
served, that a number of weak arguments sel- 
dom convince the mind so much as one strong 
one ; and, therefore, that we ought to be cautious 
how we lay too great stress on little things, as 
scarcely any thing so much implies a weakness 
of understanding. A great number of weak 
reasons ought therefore to be carefully avoided, 
lest we fall into the fault ridiculed by Pope in his 
Dunciad:— — 

Explain upon a thing till all men doubt it, 
And write about it Goddess and about it. 

When argument and reasoning have produced 
their full effect, then, and not till then, the pa- 
thetic is admitted with the greatest force and 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 253 

propriety. When the subject will admit of the 
pathetic (for all subjects do not), a speaker 
should cautiously avoid giving his hearers warn- 
ing that he intends to excite their passions; 
every previous preparation of this kind chills 
their sensibility. The orator should steal im- 
perceptibly upon the feelings of his hearers, and 
engage their passions before they perceive he is 
addressing them. 

To succeed in the pathetic, it is necessary to 
attend to the proper language of the passions. 
This, if we consult nature, we shall ever find is 
unaffected and simple. It may be animated 
with bold and strong figures, but it will have no 
ornament or finery. There is a material differ- 
ence between painting to the imagination and 
to the heart. The one may be done with deli- 
beration and coolness ; the other must always be 
rapid and ardent. In the former, art and labour 
may be suffered to appear ; in the latter, no pro- 
per effect can be produced, unless it seem to be 
the work of nature only. Hence all digressions 
should be avoided, which may interrupt or turn 
aside the swell of passion. Hence comparisons 
are always dangerous, and commonly quite im- 
proper in the midst of the pathetic. It is also 
to be observed, that emotions which are violent 
cannot be lasting. The pathetic, therefore, 
should not be prolonged and extended too 
much. A due regard should always be preserved 
to what the audience will bear ; for he that at- 
tempts to carry them farther in passion than 
they will follow him annihilates his purpose; 
by endeavouring to w r arm them in the extreme 
he takes the surest method of completely freez- 
ing them. 

For the expression of these passions by pro- 
nunciation or delivery, the student must be re- 



%H RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ferred to a work entitled Elements of Elocution, 
where it is hoped he will find a clearer descrip- 
tion of the operation of the passions, on the at- 
titude, countenance, gesture, and tone of voice, 
whether in reading* or speaking, than is to be 
met with in any other work on the subject. Be- 
sides, what has never before been attempted, he 
will there find a mechanical process of exciting 
the passions in the speaker, so necessary to his 
communicating them to his hearer, according to 
the rule of Horace : 



Si vis me flere, 



Dolendum est primum ipse tibi. 

Concerning the peroration, or conclusion of a 
discourse, a few words will be sufficient. Some- 
times the whole pathetic part comes in most 
properly at the conclusion. Sometimes, when 
the discourse has been altogether argumenta- 
tive, it is proper to conclude with summing up 
the arguments, placing them in one point of 
view, and leaving the impression of them full 
and strong on the minds of the hearers. For the 
principal rule of a conclusion, and what nature 
obviously suggests, is to place that last on 
which we choose that the strength of our cause 
should rest. 

In every kind of public speaking it is impor- 
tant to hit the precise time of concluding, 
so as to bring the discourse just to a point : nei- 
ther ending abruptly and unexpectedly, nor dis- 
appointing the expectation of the hearers, when 
they look for the discourse being finished. The 
close should always be concluded with dignity 
and spirit, that the minds of the hearers may be 
left warm, and that they may depart with a fa- 
vourable impression of the subject and of the 
speaker. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 255 

Having thus adjusted and prepared the several 
parts of a subject, the next object is the style in 
which we are to convey it to others. This has 
been so elaborately and accurately treated by 
Dr. Blair, that I shall take the same liberty which 
others have done, of extracting some of his 
thoughts on this subject, and refer the student in 
rhetoric to the Doctor's excellent lectures, for a 
more complete view of whatever is necessary to 
be known. 

Style — Perspicuity and Precision. 

Style is the peculiar manner in which a 
man expresses his conceptions by means of lan- 
guage. It is a picture of the ideas which rise 
in his mind, and of the order in which they are 
product *d. 

The qualities of a good style may be ranked 
under two heads — perspicuity and ornament. 
It will readily be admitted, that perspicuity 
ought to be essentially connected with every 
kind of writing. Without this the brightest or- 
naments of style only glimmer through the dark ; 
and perplex, instead of pleasing the reader. • If 
we are forced to follow a writer with much 
care, to pause, and to read over his sentences a 
second time, in order to understand them fully, 
he will never please us long. Mankind are too 
indolent to be fond of so much labour. Though 
they may pretend to admire the author's depth, 
after having discovered his meaning, they will 
seldom be inclined to look a second time into his 
book. 

The study of perspicuity claims attention, 
first, to single words and phrases, and then to 
the construction of sentences. When considered 
with respect to words and phrases, it requires 



256 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

these three qualities — purity, propriety, and pre- 
cision. 

Purity and propriety of language are often 
used indiscriminately for each other ; and, in- 
deed, they are very nearly allied. A distinction, 
however, should be made between them. Purity 
consists in the use of such words and such con- 
structions as belong to the idiom of the language 
which we speak, in opposition to those words 
and phrases which are imported from other lan- 
guages, or which are obsolete, or new coined, 
or employed without proper authority. Propriety 
is the choice of such words as the best and most 
established usage has appropriated to those ideas 
which we intend to express by them ; it implies 
their correct and judicious application, in oppo- 
sition to vulgar or low expressions, and to words 
and phrases which would be less signify ant of 
the ideas that we intend to convey. Style may 
be pure, that is, it may be entirely English, 
without Scotticisms or Gallicisms, or ungram- 
matical expressions of any kind, and may, not- 
withstanding, be deficient in propriety. The 
words may be ill selected ; not adapted to the 
subject, nor fully expressive of the author's mean- 
ing. He has taken them, indeed, from the gene- 
ral mass of English language ; but his choice has 
been made without happiness or skill. Style, 
however, cannot be proper without being pure : 
it is the union of purity and propriety which 
renders it graceful and perspicuous. 

The exact meaning of precision may be un- 
derstood from the etymology of the word. It is 
derived from " pracidere" to cut off: it signi- 
fies retrenching all superfluities : and pruning 
the expression in such a manner as to exhibit 
neither more nor less than an exact copy of his 
idea who uses it. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 257 

The words which are employed to express 
ideas may be faulty in three respects. They 
may either not express that idea which the au- 
thor means, but some other which only resembles 
or is related to it; or they may express that 
idea, but not fully and completely ; or they may 
express it together, with something more than 
he designs. Precision is opposed to these three 
faults, but particularly to the last ; into this 
feeble writers are very apt to fall. They em- 
ploy a multitude of words to make themselves 
understood, as they think, more distinctly; and 
they only confound the reader. The image, as 
they place it before you, is always seen double, 
and no double image is distinct. When an au- 
thor tells us of his hero's courage in the day of 
battle, the expression is precise, and we under- 
stand it fully. But if, from a desire of multiply- 
ing words, he will praise his courage and forti- 
tude, at the moment he joins these words toge- 
ther, our idea begins to waver. He intends to 
express one quality more strongly; but he is, in 
fact, expressing two. Courage resists danger; 
fortitude supports pain. The occasion of exert- 
ing each of these qualities, is different; and be- 
ing induced to think of both together, when 
only one of them should engage our attention, 
our view is rendered unsteady, and our concep- 
tion of the object indistinct. 

The great source of a loose style, in opposition 
to precision, is the inaccurate and unhappy use 
of those words called synonymous. Scarcely, in 
any language, are there two words which ex- 
cess precisely the same idea; and a person per- 
tttly acquainted with the propriety of the lan- 
gness? will always be able to observe something 
bytfahich they arc distinguished. In our lan- 
gu jge, very many instances might be given of 

I 



258 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

»a difference in meaning, among words which are 
thought to he synonymous ; and as the subject 
is of importance, we shall point out a few of 
them. 

Surprised, astonished, amazed, confounded. We 
are surprised with what is new or unexpected ; 
we are astonished at what is vast or great ; we 
are amazed with what we cannot comprehend ; 
we are confounded by what is shocking or ter- 
rible. 

Pride, Vanity. Pride makes us esteem our- 
selves; vanity makes us desire the esteem of 
others. 

Haughtiness, disdain. Haughtiness is founded 
on the high opinion we have of ourselves ,* dis- 
dain on the low opinion we entertain of others. 

To weary, to fatigue. The continuance of the 
same thing wearies us ; labour fatigues us. A 
man is weary with standing, he is fatigued with 
walking. 

To abhor, to detest. To abhor, imports, simply, 
strong dislike; to detest, imports likewise strong 
disapprobation. I abhor being in debt; I detest 
treachery. 

To invent, to discover. We invent things which 
are new ; we discover what has been hidden. 
Galiheo invented the telescope ; Harvey discover- 
ed the circulation of the blood. 

Entire, complete. A thing is entire, when it 
wants none of its parts ; complete, when it 
wants none of the appendages which belong to 
it. A man may occupy an entire house, though 
he has not one complete apartment. 

Tranquillity, peace, calm. Tranquillity sigu- 
fies a situation free from trouble, considered <g 
itself: peace, the same situation, with respeibit 
any causes which might interrupt it ; calm, Ahi9 
respect to a disturbed situation going before, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 259 

following it. A good man enjoys tranquillity in 
himself: peace with others ; and calm after the 
storm. 

Enough, sufficient. Enough relates to the 
quantity which we wish to have of any thing. 
Sufficient relates to the use that is to be made of 
it. Hence, enough commonly signifies a greater 
quantity than sufficient does. The covetous man 
never has enough, though he has what is suffici- 
ent for nature. 

These are a few, among many, instances of 
words in our language, which by careless wri- 
ters, are apt to be mistaken for synonymous. 
The more the distinction in the meaning of such 
words is weighed and attended to, the more 
accurately and forcibly shall we speak and 
write. 

Structure of Sentences. 

A proper construction of sentences is of such 
importance in every species of composition, that 
we cannot be too strict or minute in our atten- 
tion to it. For whatever be the subject, if the 
sentences be constructed in a clumsy, perplexed, 
or feeble manner, it is impossible that a work 
composed of such periods can be read with plea- 
sure, or even with profit. But, by an attention 
to the rules which relate to this part of style, 
we acquire the habit of expressing ourselves with 
perspicuity and elegance ; and if a disorder hap- 
pen to arise in some of our sentences, we im- 
mediately discover where it lies, and are able tu 
correct it. 

The properties most essential to a perfect sen- 
tence seem to be the four following: — 1. Clear- 

gkiess and precision; 2. Unity; 3. Strength ; 4. 

h)Harmony. 

gu Ambiguity is opposed to clearness and pre- 

s 2 



260 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

cision, and arises from two causes; either from 
a wrong choice of words, or a wrong collocation 
of them. Of the choice of words, as far as re- 
gards perspicuity, we have already spoken. Of 
the collocation of them we are now to treat. 
From the nature of our language, a leading rule 
in the arrangement of our sentences is, that the 
words or members most nearly related should 
be placed in the sentence as near to each other 
as possible, so as to make their mutual relation 
clearly appear. This rule is too frequently ne- 
glected, even by good writers. A few instances 
will show both its importance and its appli- 
cation. 

In the position of adverbs, which are used 
to qualify the signification of something which 
either precedes or follows them, a good deal of 
nicety is to be observed. ec By greatness/' says 
Mr. Addison, " I do not only mean the bulk of 
** any single object, but the largeness of a whole 
**• view." Here the situation of the adverb only 
renders it a limitation of the following word, 
mean. " I not only mean/' — The question 
may then be asked, What, does he more than 
mean ? Had it been placed after bulk, still it 
would have been improperly situated; for it 
might then be asked, What is meant besides the 
bulk ? Is it the colour or any other property ? 
Its proper place is, certainly, after the word ob- 
ject : " By greatness I do not mean the bulk of 
i( any single object only; " for then, when it is 
asked, What does he mean more than the bulk of 
a single object ? the answer comes out pre- 
cisely as the author intends, " the largeness of 
" a whole view." " Theism," says Lord 
Shaftesbury, " can only be opposed to poly- 
" theism, or atheism." It may be asked then, is 
theism capable of nothing else, except being op- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 261 

posed to polytheism or atheism ? This is what 
the words literally mean, through the improper 
collocation of only. He ought to have said, 
" Theism can be opposed only to polytheism, or 
atheism/' These kind of inaccuracies may have 
no material inconvenience in conversation, be- 
cause the tone and emphasis used in pronouncing 
them generally serve to show their reference, and 
to make the meaning perspicuous : but in wri- 
ting, where a person speaks to the eye, and not 
to the ear, he ought to be more accurate ; and 
should so connect those adverbs with the words 
which they qualify, that his meaning cannot be 
mistaken on the first inspection. 

When a circumstance is interposed in the 
middle of a sentence, it sometimes requires art 
to place it in such a manner, as to divest it of all 
ambiguity. For instance, " Are these designs/' 
says Lord Bolingbroke, Dissert, on Parties, Ded. 
" which any man, who is born a Briton, in any 
" circumstances, in any situation, ought to 
" be ashamed or afraid to avow ? ,J Here we 
are in doubt, whether the words, " in any circum- 
stances, in any situation, are connected with a 
" man born a Briton, in any circumstances, or 
" situation/' or with that man's " avowing his 
iC designs in any circumstances, or situation, into 
" which he may be brought ? " If the latter, as 
seems most likely, was intended to be the mean- 
ing, the arrangement ought to have been in this 
form : " Are these designs, which any man, 
" who is born a Briton, ought to be ashamed or 
" afraid, in any circumstances, in any situation, 
" to avow ? M 

Still more attentive care is requisite to the 
proper disposition of the relative pronouns, who, 
which, what, whose ; and of all those particles 
which express the connexion of the parts of 



262 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

speech with one anolher. Since all reasoning 
depends upon this connexion, we cannot be too 
accurate with regard to it. A trifling errour may 
obscure the meaning of the whole sentence, 
and even where the meaning is apparent; yet 
where these relative particles are misplaced, we 
always find something awkward and disjointed 
in the structure of the period. The following 
passage in Bishop Sherlock's Sermons (vol. 2. 
sermon 15) will exemplify these observations: 
" It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against 
" the accidents of life, by heaping up treasures, 
<c which nothing can protect us against, but the 
" good providence of our Heavenly Father." 
JVliich always refers grammatically to the im- 
mediately preceding substantive, which here is, 
" treasures/* and this would convert the whole 
period into nonsense. The sentence should have 
been thus constructed : " It is folly to pretend, 
" by heaping up treasures, to arm ourselves against 
" the accidents of life, which nothing can pro- 
" tect us against but the good providence of our 
" Heavenly Father." 

We now proceed to the second quality of a 
well-arranged sentence, which we termed its 
Unity. This is an indispensable property. The 
very nature of a sentence implies one proposi- 
tion to be expressed. It may consist, indeed, of 
parts; but these parts must be so intimately knit 
together, as to make upon the mind the impres- 
sion of one object, not of many. 

To preserve this unity, we must first observe, 
that, during the course of the sentence, the scene 
should be changed as little as possible. There 
is generally, in every sentence, some person or 
thing, which is the governing word. This 
should be continued so, if possible, from the be- 
ginning to the end of it. Should a man express 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 263 

himself in this manner : " After we came to an- 
" chor, they put me on shore, where I was sa- 
*' luted by all my friends, who received me with 
" the greatest kindness." Here, though the ob- 
jects are sufficiently connected, yet by this mode 
of representation, by shifting so often the place 
and the person we, and they, and 7, and who, 
they appear in such a disunited view, that the 
sense of connection is nearly lost. The sentence 
is restored to its proper unity, by constructing it 
after the following manner : " Having come to 
" an anchor, I was put on shore, where I was 
u saluted by all my friends, who received me with 
" the greatest kindness." 

Another rule is, never to crowd into one sen- 
tence things which have so little connection, 
that they might bear to be divided into two or 
more sentences. The transgression of this rule 
never fails to hurt and displease a reader. Its 
effect, indeed, is so disgusting, that, of the two, 
it is the safest extreme, to err rather by two many 
short sentences, than by one that is overloaded 
and confused. The following sentence from a 
translation of Plutarch, will justify this opinion : 
" Their march," says the author, speaking of 
the Greeks under Alexander, " was through an 
" uncultivated country, whose savage inhabi- 
" tants fared hardly, having no other riches 
" than a breed of lean sheep, whose flesh was 
" rank and unsavoury, by reason of their conti- 
" nual feeding upon sea-fish." Here the scene is 
repeatedly changed. The march of the Greeks, 
the description of the inhabitants through whose 
country they passed, the account of their sheep, 
and the reason of their sheep being disagreeable 
food, make a jumble of objects, slightly related 
to each other, which the reader cannot, with- 



264 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

out considerable difficulty, comprehend under 
one view. 

Another rule for preserving the unity of sen- 
tences is, to keep clear of all parentheses in the 
middle of them. These may, on some occasions, 
have a spirited appearance, as prompted by a 
certain vivacity of thought, which can glance 
happily aside, as it is going along. But, in ge- 
neral, their effect is extremely bad; being a per- 
plexed method of disposing of some thought, 
which a writer has not art enough to introduce 
in its proper place. It is needless to produce any 
instances, since they occur so frequently among 
incorrect writers. 

We shall add only one rule more for the unity 
of a sentence ; which is, to bring it always to a 
full and perfect close. It need hardly be ob- 
served, that an unfinished sentence is no sen- 
tence at all, with respect to any of the rules of 
grammar. But sentences often occur, which are 
more than finished. When we have arrived at 
what we expected to be the conclusion ; when 
we have come to the word, on which the mind 
is naturally led to rest, by what went before ; 
unexpectedly some circumstance arises, which 
ought to have been left out, or to have been 
disposed of after another manner. Thus, for in- 
stance, in the following sentence, from Sir 
William Temple, the adjection to the sentence 
is intirely foreign to it. Speaking of Burnet's 
Theory of the Earth, and Fontenelle's Plurality 
of Worlds : " The first/' says he, (C could not 
i£ end his learned treatise without a panygeric 
" of modern learning, in comparison of the au- 
"cient; and the other falls so grossly into the 
"censure of the old poetry, and preference of 
" the new, that I could not read either of these 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 265 

" strains without some indignation ; which no 
" quality among men is so apt to raise in me as 
" self sufficiency. " The word " indignation" 
ought to have concluded the sentence ; for what 
follows is altogether new, and is added after the 
proper close. 

We proceed now to the third quality of a cor- 
rect sentence, which we called strength. By this 
is meant, such a disposition of the several words 
and members, as shall exhibit the sense to the 
best advantage ; as shall render the impression 
which the period is intended to make most full 
and complete ; and give every word and every 
member its due weight and importance. To the 
production of this effect, perspicuity and unity 
are, no doubt, absolutely necessary : but they 
are not of themselves sufficient. For a sentence 
may be obviously clear ; it may also be suffici- 
ently compact, or have the required unity ; and 
yet, by some unfavourable circumstance in the 
structure, it may be deficient in that strength or 
liveliness of impression which a more happy col- 
location would have produced. 

The first rule that we shall give for promo- 
ting the strength of a sentence is, to take from 
it all redundant words. Whatever can be easily 
supplied in the mind is better omitted in the 
expression ; thus, " Content with deserving a 
" triumph, he refused the honour of it," is 
better than to say, tf Being content with de- 
tc serving a triumph, he refused the honour of 
M it." It is certainly, therefore, one of tbe most 
useful exercises of correction, on a view of what 
we have written or composed, to contract the 
roundabout mode of expression, and to cut off 
those useless excrescences which are usually 
found in a first draught. But we must be careful 



266 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

not to run into the opposite extreme, of pruning 
so closely as to give a hardness and dryness to 
the style. Some leaves must be left to shelter 
and adorn the fruit. 

As sentences should be divested of superfluous 
words, so also they should appear without super- 
fluous members. In opposition to this, is the 
fault we so frequently meet with, of the last 
member of a period being no other than the re- 
petition of the former, in a different dress. For 
example ; speaking of beauty, " The very first 
" discovery of it," says Mr. Addison, " strikes 
" the mind with inward joy, and spreads delight 
" through all its faculties." In this instance, 
scarcely any thing is added by the second mem- 
ber of the sentence to what was already expressed 
in the first : and though the elegant style of Mr. 
Addison may palliate such negligence, yet it is 
generally true, that language, divested of this 
prolixity, becomes more strong, as well as more 
beautiful. 

The second direction we shall give for promot- 
ing the strength of a sentence is, to pay a parti- 
cular attention to the use of copulatives, relatives, 
and all the particles employed for transition and 
connection. Some observations on this subject, 
which appear to be worthy of particular remem- 
brance, shall here be noticed. 

What is termed splitting of particles, or sepa- 
rating a preposition from the noun which it go- 
verns, is ever to be avoided : as if we should say, 
" Though virtue borrows no assistance from, yet 
" it may often be accompanied by, the advan- 
" tages of fortuue." In such instances, a degree 
of dissatisfaction arises, from the violent separa- 
tion of two things, which, from their nature, 
ought to be intimately united. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 267 

The simplicity of style is much injured by the 
unnecessary multiplication of relative and de- 
monstrative particles : Thus if a writer should 
say, " There is nothing which disgusts me sooner 
" than the empty pomp of language ; f • he would 
express himself less simply than if he had said, 
" Nothing disgusts me sooner than the empty 
" pomp of language. " The former mode of 
expression, in the introduction of a subject, or 
in laying down a proposition to which particular 
attention is demanded, is exceedingly proper : 
but in the ordinary current of discourse, the lat- 
ter is to be preferred. 

With regard to the omission or insertion of 
the relative, we shall only observe, that in con- 
versation and epistolary writing, it may be often 
omitted with propriety ; but in compositions of 
a serious or dignified kind it should constantly be 
inserted. 

On the copulative particle and, which occurs 
so often in all kinds of composition, several ob- 
servations are to be made. It is evident that the 
unnecessary repetition of it enfeebles style. By 
omitting it entirely we often mark a closer con- 
nection, a quicker succession of objects than 
when it is inserted between them. " Vcni, vidi, 
" vici ;'• — " I came, I saw, 1 conquered;" ex- 
presses with more spirit the rapidity of conquest, 
than if connecting particles had been used. 
AVhen, however, we desire to prevent a quick 
transition from one object to another, and when 
We are enumerating objects which we wish to 
appear as distinct from each other as possible, 
copulatives may be multiplied with peculiar ad- 
vantage. Thus Lord Bolingbroke says, with 
elegance and propriety, " Such a man might fall 
" a victim to power; but truth, and reason, and 
" liberty, would fall with him." 



268 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

A third rule for promoting the strength of a 
sentence is, to dispose of the, principal word, or 
words, in that place of the sentence where they 
will make the most striking impression. Perspi- 
cuity ought first to be studied ; and the nature 
of our language allows no extensive liberty in 
the choice of collocation. In general, the im- 
portant words are placed in the beginning of the 
sentence. Thus Mr. Addison : " The pleasures 
" of the imagination, taken in their full extent, 
" are not so gross as those of sense, nor so re- 
" fined as those of the understanding." This 
order seems to be the most plain and natural. 
Sometimes, however, when we propose giving 
weight to a sentence, it is proper to suspend the 
meaning for a while, and then to bring it out 
full at the close : " Thus/' says Mr. Pope, " on 
" whatever side we contemplate Homer, what 
" principally strikes us is his wonderful inven- 
" tion." 

A fourth rule for the strength of sentences is, 
to make the members of them go on rising in 
their importance above one another. This kind 
of arrangement is called a climax, and is ever 
regarded as a beauty in composition. Why it 
pleases is sufficiently evident. In all things, we 
naturally love to advance to what is more and 
more beautiful, rather than to follow the retro- 
grade order. Having viewed some considerable 
object, we cannot, without pain, be pulled back 
to attend to an inferior circumstance. ec Caven- 
■ f dim est," says Quintilian, " ne decrescat ora- 
" tio, et fortiori subjungatur aliquid infirmius." 
" We must take care that our composition shall 
t( not fall off, and that a weaker expression shall 
" not follow one of greater strength." When a 
sentence consists of two members, the longest 
should, in general, be the concluding one. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 269 

Hence the pronunciation is rendered more easy ; 
and the shortest member of the period being 
placed first, we carry it more readily in our me- 
mory as we proceed to the second, and see the 
connection of the two more clearly. Thus, to 
say, " When our passions have forsaken us, we 
<c flatter ourselves with the belief, that we have 
<c forsaken them," is both more graceful and 
more perspicuous than to begin with the longest 
part of the proposition : " We flatter ourselves 
u with the belief, that we have forsaken our 
" passions, when they have forsaken us." 

A fifth rule for constructing sentences with 
proper strength is, to avoid concluding them with 
an adverb, a preposition, or any insignificant word. 
By such conclusions style is always weakened 
and degraded. Sometimes, indeed, where the 
stress and significancy rest chiefly upon words of 
this kind, they may, with propriety, have the 
principal place allotted them. No fault, for 
example, can be found with this sentence of 
Bolingbroke : " In their prosperity, my friends 
" shall never hear of me : in their adversitv, al- 
(C ways;" where never and akvays, being em- 
phatical words, are so placed, as to make a 
strong impression. But when those inferior parts 
of speech are introduced as circumstances, or as 
qualifications of more important words, they 
should invariably be disposed of in the least con- 
spicuous parts of the period. 

We should always avoid with care the con- 
cluding with any of those particles which distin- 
guish the cases of nouns — of, to, from, with, by. 
Thus it is much better to say, <c Avarice is a 
" crime of which wise men are often guilty," 
than to say, " Avarice is a crime which wise 
(( men are often guilty of." This kind of 



270 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

phraseology all correct writers endeavour sedu- 
lously to avoid. 

Verbs used in a compound sense, with some 
of these prepositions, are likewise ungraceful 
conclusions of a period ; such as, bring about, 
lay hold of, come over to, clear up, and many 
others of the same kind; instead of which, if a 
simple verb can be employed, the sentence is al- 
ways terminated with more strength. Even the 
pronoun it, especially when joined with some of 
the prepositions, as, with it, in it, to it, cannot, 
without a violation of grace, be the conclusion 
of a sentence. Any phrase which expresses a 
circumstance only, cannot conclude a sentence 
without great imperfection and inelegance. 
Circumstances are, indeed, like unshapen stones 
in a building, which try the skill of an artist, 
where to place them with the least offence. We 
should carefully avoid crowding too many of 
them together, but rather intersperse them in 
different parts of the sentence,, joined with the 
principal words on which they depend. Thus, 
for instance, when Dean Swift says, " What I 
" had the honour of mentioning to your lord- 
" ship, some time ago, in conversation, was not 
" a new thought/— (Letter to the Earl of Ox- 
ford). These two circumstances, some time ago, 
and in conversation, which are here joined, would 
have been better separated thus : " What I had 
" the honour some time ago of mentioning to 
" your lordship in conversation." 

The last rule which we shall mention, con- 
cerning the strength of a sentence is, that in the 
members of it, where two things are compared 
or contrasted to one another, where either a re- 
semblance or an opposition is designed to be ex- 
pressed, some resemblance in the language and 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 271 

construction ought to be observed. The follow- 
ing passage from Pope's preface to his Homer, 
beautifully exemplifies the rule we are now giv- 
ing. t( Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil 
" the better artist : in the one, we admire the 
" man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries 
tc us with a commanding impetuosity ; Virgil 
" leads us with an attractive majesty. Homer 
" scatters with a generous profusion ; Virgil 
u bestows with a careless magnificence. Homer, 
" like the Nile, pours out his riches with a 
u sudden overflow ; Virgil, like a river in its 
" banks, with a constant stream. And when we 
" look upon their machines, Homer seems like 
" his own Jupiter in his terrours, shaking Olym- 
u pus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the 
" heavens. Virgil, like the same power in his 
" benevolence, counselling with the gods, laying 
" plans for empires, and ordering his whole cre- 
n ation." Periods of this kind, when introduced 
with propriety, and not too frequently repeated, 
have a sensible and attractive beauty : but if such 
a construction be aimed at in all our sentences, 
it betrays into a disagreeable uniformity, and 
produces a regular gingle in the period, which 
tires the ear, and plainly discovers affectation. 

Having treated of sentences, with regard to 
their meaning, under the heads of Perspicuity, 
Unity, and Strength, we will now consider them 
with respect to their sound, their harmony, or 
agreeableness to the ear. 

In the harmony of periods, two things are to 
be considered : First, agreeable sound, or mo- 
dulation in general, without any particular 
expression : Next, the sound so ordered, as to 
become expressive of the sense. The first is 



272 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the more common : the second the superior 
beauty. 

The beauty of musical construction, it is 
evident, will depend upon the choice of words, 
and the arrangement of them. Those words are 
most pleasing to the ear which are composed 
of smooth and liquid sounds, where there is a 
proper intermixture of vowels and consonants, 
without too many harsh consonants rubbing 
against each other, or too many open vowels 
in succession, to produce a hiatus, or unpleasing 
aperture of the mouth. Long words are gene- 
rally more pleasing to the ear than monosylla- 
bles ; and those are the most musical which are 
not wholly composed of long or short syllables, 
but of an intermixture of them ; such as, de- 
light, amuse, velocity, celerity, beautiful, impe- 
tuosity. If the words, however, which compose 
a sentence, be ever so well chosen and harmo- 
nious, yet, if they be unskilfully arranged, its 
music is entirely lost. As an instance of a mu- 
sical sentence, we may take the following from 
Milton, in his Treatise on Education. " We 
" shall conduct you to a hill-side, laborious, in- 
" deed, at the first ascent ; but else so smooth, 
" so green, so full of goodly prospects and me- 
" lodious sounds on every side, that the harp 
" of Orpheus was not more charming." Every 
thing in this sentence conspires to render it. 
harmonious. The words are well chosen : labo- 
rious, smooth, green, goodly, melodious, charm- 
ing : and besides, they are so happily arranged, 
that no alteration could be made, without injur- 
ing the melody. 

There are two things on which the music of 
a sentence principally depends : these are, the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 273 

proper distribution of the several members of it, 
and the close or cadence of the whole. 

First, we observe, that the distribution of the 
several members should be carefully attended to. 
Whatever is easy and pleasing to the organs of 
speech always sounds grateful to the ear. While 
a period is going on, the termination of each of 
its members forms a pause in the pronunciation ; 
and these pauses should be so distributed as to 
bear a certain musical proportion to each other. 
This will be best illustrated by examples. The 
following passage is taken from Archbishop 
Tillotson. " This discourse, concerning the 
u easiness of God's commands, does, all along, 
u suppose- and acknowledge the difficulties of 
" the first entrance upon a religious course; 
" except only in those persons, who have had 
" the happiness to be trained up to religion by 
" the easy and insensible degrees of a pious and 
" virtuous education." This sentence is far 
from being harmonious ; owing chiefly to this, 
that there is, properly, no more than one pause 
in it, falling between the two members into 
which it is divided ; each of which is so long as 
to require a considerable stretch of the breath in 
pronouncing it*. Let us observe now, on the 
contrary, the grace of the following passage, 
from Sir William Temple, in which he speaks 
sarcastically of man. " But, God be thanked, 

* There is not perhaps so inveterate, or so ill-grounded an 
errour,as that which prevails among all rhetoricians ancient and 
modern, of supposing that a long sentence necessarily requires 
a long effusion of breath, and occasions great difficulty of pro- 
nunciation. Those who have perused Elements of Elocution, 
page 25, and the former part of this treatise, will, I flatter my- 
self, see the folly of this notion. Those, above all others, 
ought not to adopt it, who contend, that every line of verse, 
whether the sense require it or not, ought to be marked with a 
pause of suspension. See Elements of Elocution, page 288, 

T 



274 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

" his pride is greater than his ignorance ; and 
" what he wants in knowledge, he supplies by 
" sufficiency. When he has looked about him, 
" as far as he can, he concludes there is no more 
" to be seen ; when he is at the end of his line, 
" he is at the bottom of the ocean ; when he 
<c has shot his best, he is sure none ever did, or 
" ever can, shoot better, or beyond it. His 
" own reason he holds to be the certain measure 
" of truth ; and his own knowledge of what is 
ct possible in nature." Here every thing is, at 
the same time, easy to the breath, and grateful 
to the ear. We must, however, observe, that if 
composition abounds with sentences which have 
too many rests, and these placed at intervals too 
apparently measured and regular, it is apt to 
savour of affectation. 

The next thing which demands our attention 
is the close or cadence of the whole sentence. 
The only important rule which can here be 
given is, that when we aim at dignity or eleva- 
tion, the sound should increase to the last; the 
longest members of the period, and the fullest 
and most sonorous words, should be employed in 
the conclusion. As an instance of this, the fol- 
lowing sentence of Mr. Addison may be given. 
*' It fills the mind," speaking of sight, u with 
ef the largest variety of ideas ; converses with its 
" objects at the greatest distance ; and continues 
" the longest in action without being tired or 
" satiated with its proper enjoyments. " Here 
every reader must be sensible of a beauty, both 
in the just division of the members and pauses, 
and the manner in which the sentence is rounded 
and brought to a full and harmonious termina- 
tion. 

It may be remarked, that little words, in the 
conclusion of a sentence, are as injurious to me- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 275 

lody as they are inconsistent with strength of 
expression. A musical close in our language 
seems, in genera], to require either the last syl- 
lable, or the last but one, to be a long syllable. 
Words which consist chiefly of short syllables, 
as contrary, particular, retrospect, seldom ter- 
minate a sentence harmoniously, unless a run of 
long syllables, before, has rendered them pleas- 
ing to the ear. 

Sentences, however, which are so constructed 
as to make tbe sound always swell and grow 
towards the end, and to rest either on a long or 
a penult long syllable, give a discourse the tone 
of declamation. If melody be not varied, the ear 
soon becomes acquainted and cloyed with it. 
Sentences constructed in the same manner, with 
the pauses at equal intervals, should never suc- 
ceed each otber. Short sentences must be blended 
with long and swelling ones, to render discourse 
sprightly as well as magnificent. 

We now proceed to treat of a higher species 
of harmony — the sound adapted to the sense. 
Of this we may remark two degrees: First, the 
current of sound suited to the tenor of a dis- 
course : Next, a peculiar resemblance effected 
between some object and the sounds that are em- 
ployed in describing it. 

Sounds have, in many respects, an intimate 
correspondence with our ideas ; partly natural, 
partly produced by artificial associations. Hence, 
any one modulation of sound continued, stamps 
on our style a certain character and expression. 
Sentences constructed with the Ciceronian ful- 
ness and swell excite an idea of what is impor- 
tant, magnificent, and sedate. They suit, how- 
ever, no violent passion, no eager reasoning, no 
familiar address. These require measures brisker, 
easier, and more concise. It were as ridiculous 

T 2 



276 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

to Write a familiar epistle and a funeral oration 
in a style of the same cadence, as to set the words 
of a tender love-song to the tune of a warlike 
march. 

Besides that general correspondence which 
the current of sound has with the current of 
thought, a more particular expression may be 
attempted, of certain objects, by resembling 
sounds. In poetry this resemblance is chiefly to 
be looked for. It obtains sometimes, indeed., in 
prose composition ; but there in a more faint and 
inferior degree. 

The sounds of words may be employed to 
describe chiefly three classes of objects ; first, 
other sounds ; secondly, motion ; and thirdly, 
the emotions and passions of the mind. 

In most languages it will be found, that the 
names of many particular sounds are so formed 
as to bear some resemblance to the sound which 
they signify ; as with us, the whistling of winds, 
the buzz and hum of insects, the hiss of serpents, 
and the cnash of falling timber; and many other 
instances, where the word has been plainly con- 
structed from the sound it represents *. A re- 
markable example of this beauty we shall pro- 
duce from Milton, taken from two passages in 
his Paradise Lost, describing the sound made, in 
the one, by the opening of the gates of Hell ; in 
the other, by the opening of those of Heaven. 
The contrast between the two exhibi 1 ' to great 
advantage the art of the poet. The fiiat is the 
opening Hell's gates : 

— i On a sudden, open fly, 

With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound, 
Th' infernal doors ; and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder- 

* Epr a fuller explanation of this figure in composition, 
See page 219. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 277 

Observe the smoothness of the other : 

— Heav'n open'd wide 
Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound ! 
On golden hinges turning. 

The second class of objects, which the sound 
of words is frequently employed to imitate, is 
motion : as it is swift or slow, violent or gentle, 
uniform or interrupted, easy or accompanied with 
effort. Between sound and motion there is no 
natural affinity ; yet in the imagination there is a 
strong one, as is evident from the connexion be- 
tween music and dancing. The poet can, con- 
sequently, give us a lively idea of the kind of mo- 
tion he would describe, by the help of sound, 
which corresponds, in our imagination, with that 
motion. Long syllables naturally excite the idea 
of slow motion ; as in this line of Pope : 

Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone. 

A succession of short syllables gives the im- 
pression of quick motion : as, in Milton, — 

While on the tawny sands and shelves 
Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 

The works of Homer and Virgil abound with 
instances of this beauty, which are so often 
quoted, and so well known, that it is unnecessary 
to produce them. 

The third set of objects, which we mentioned 
the sound of words as capable of representing, 
consists of the emotions and passions of the mind. 
Between sense and sound there appears, at first 
view, to be no natural resemblance. But if the 
arrangement of syllables, by the sound alone, 
calls forth one set of ideas more readily than 
another, and disposes the mind for entering into 
that affection which the poet intends to raise, 
such arrangement may, with propriety, be said 



278 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

to resemble the sense,, or be similar and corre- 
spondent to it. Thus when pleasure, joy, and 
agreeable objects, are described by one who sen- 
sibly feels his subject, the language naturally 
runs into smooth, liquid, and flowing numbers : 

joy, thou welcome stranger ! twice three years 

1 have not felt thy vital beams ; but now 

It warms my veins and plays around my heart : 

A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground, 

And I could mount Young. 

Brisk and lively sensations excite quicker and 
more animated numbers : 

The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner 

With linstock now the dev'lish cannon touches, 

And down goes all before him. Shafopeare. 

Melancholy and gloomy subjects are naturally 
connected with slow measures and long words : 

In those deep solitudes and awful cells, 

Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells. Pope. 

Abundant instances of this kind will be sug- 
gested by a moderate acquaintance with the good 
poets, either ancient or modern. 

General Characters of Style. 

Diffuse, Concise, Feeble, Nervous, Dry, Plain, 
Neat, Elegant, Flowery. 

That different subjects ought to be treated 
in different kinds of style, is a position so self- 
evident, that it requires not illustration. Every 
one is convinced, that treatises of philosophy 
should not be composed in the same style with 
orations. It is equally apparent, that different 
parts of the same composition require a variation 
in the style and manner. Yet amidst this va- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 279 

riety, we still expect to find, in the composition 
of any one man, some degree of uniformity or 
consistency with himself, in manner ; we expect 
to find some prevailing character of style im- 
pressed on all his writings, which shall be suited 
to, and shall distinguish, his particular genius and 
turn of mind. The orations in Livy differ consi- 
derably in style, as they ought to do, from the 
rest of his history. The same thing may be ob- 
served in those of Tacitus. Yet in the orations of 
both these elegant historians, the distinguishing 
manner of each may be clearly traced ; the 
splendid fulness of the one, and the sententious 
brevity of the other. Wherever there is real and 
native genius, it prompts a disposition to one kind 
of style rather than to another. Where this is 
wanting, where there is no marked nor peculiar 
character which appears in the compositions of 
an author, we are apt to conclude, and not with- 
out cause, that he is a vulgar and trivial author, 
who writes from imitation, and not from the im- 
pulse of original genius. 

One of the first and most obvious distinctions 
of the different sorts of style arises from an au- 
thor's expanding his thoughts more or less. 
This distinction constitutes what are termed the 
diffuse and concise styles. A concise writer 
compresses his ideas into the fewest words ; he 
employs none but the most expressive ; he lops 
off all those which are not a material addition 
to the sense. Whatever ornament he admits is 
adopted for the sake of force, rather than of 
grace. The same thought is never repeated. 
The utmost precision is studied in his sentences; 
and they are generally designed to suggest more 
to the reader's imagination than they imme- 
diately express. 

A diffuse writer unfolds his idea fully. He 



280 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

holds it out in a variety of lights, and assists the 
reader, as much as possible, in comprehending 
it completely. He is not very anxious to express 
it at first in its full strength, because he intends 
repeating the impression ; and what he wants in 
strength he endeavours to supply by copiousness. 
His periods naturally flow into some length ; 
and having room for ornament of every kind, he 
gives it free admittance. 

Each of these styles has its peculiar advan- 
tages, and each becomes faulty when carried to 
the extreme. Of conciseness carried as far as 
propriety will allow, perhaps in some cases 
farther, Tacitus the historian, and Montesquieu, 
in st l'Esprit de Loix," are remarkable examples. 
Of a beautiful and magnificent diffuseness, 
Cicero is, undoubtedly, the noblest instance 
which can be given. Addison also, and Sir 
William Temple, may be ranked in some degree 
under the same class. 

To determine when to adopt the concise, and 
when the diffuse manner, we must be guided 
hy the nature of the composition. Discourses 
which are to be spoken require a more diffuse 
style than books which are to be read. In writ- 
ten compositions, a proper degree of concise- 
ness has great advantages. It is more lively ; 
keeps up attention : makes a stronger impression 
on the mind ; and gratifies the reader by supply- 
ing more exercise to his conception. Descrip- 
tion, when we wish to have it vivid and animat- 
ed, should be in a concise strain. Any redun- 
dant words or circumstances encumber the fancy, 
and render the object we present to it con- 
fused and indistinct,. The strength and vivacity 
of description, whether in prose or poetry, de- 
pend much more upon the happy choice of one 
or two important circumstances than upon the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 281 

multiplication of them. When we desire to 
strike the tancy, or to move the heart, we should 
be concise ; when to inform the understanding, 
which is more deliberate in its motions, and wants 
the assistance of a guide, it is better to be full. 
Historical narration may be beautiful,, either in a 
concise or diffuse manner, according to the au- 
thor's genius. Livy and Herodotus are diffuse ; 
Thucydides andSallust are concise; yet they are 
all agreeable. 

The nervous and the feeble are generally con- 
sidered as characters of style, of the same import 
with the concise and the diffuse. They do, in- 
deed, very frequently coincide ; yet this does 
not always hold ; since there are instances of 
writers, who, in the midst of a full and ample 
style, have maintained a considerable degree of 
strength. Livy is an instance of the truth of 
this observation. The foundation, indeed, of 
a nervous or weak style is laid in an author's 
manner of thinking: If he conceives an object 
forcibly, he will express it with strength ; but 
if he has an indistinct view of his subject, this 
will clearly appear in his style. Unmeaning 
words and loose epithets will escape him ; his 
expressions will be vague and general ; his ar- 
rangement indistinct and weak ; and our concep- 
tion of his meaning will be faint and confused. 
But a nervous writer, be his style concise or ex- 
tended, gives us always a strong idea of his 
meaning; his mind being full of his subject, his 
words are, consequently, all expressive; every 
phrase, and every figure which he uses, renders 
the picture which he would set before us more 
striking and complete. 

It must, however, be observed, that too great 
a study of strength, to the neglect of the other 



WL RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

qualities of style, is apt to betray writers into a 
harsh manner. Harshness proceeds from un- 
common words, from forced inversions in the 
construction of a sentence, and too great neg- 
lect of smoothness and ease. This is imputed 
as a fault to some of our earliest classics in the 
English Language ; such as Sir Walter Raleigh, 
Sir Francis Bacon, Hooker, Harrington, Cud- 
worth, and other writers of considerable re- 
putation in the days of Queen Elizabeth, James 
I, and Charles I. These writers had nerve 
and strength in a considerable degree ; and are 
to this day distinguished by that quality in style. 
But the language, in their hands, was very dif- 
ferent from what it is at present, and was, in- 
deed, entirely formed upon the idiom and con- 
struction of the Latin, in the arrangement of 
sentences. The present form which the lan- 
guage has assumed, has, in some degree, sacrificed 
the study of strength to that of ease and perspi- 
cuity. Our arrangement has become less forcible, 
perhaps, but more plain and natural : and this is 
now considered as the genius of our tongue. 

Hitherto style has been considered under those 
characters, which regard its expressiveness of an 
author's meaning : We will now consider it in 
another view, with respect to the degree of orna- 
ment employed to embellish it. Here the style 
of different authors seems to rise in the following 
gradation : A dry, a plain, a neat, an elegant, a 
flowery manner. Of these we will treat briefly 
in the order in which they stand. 

A dry manner excludes every kind of orna- 
ment. Satisfied with being understood, it aims 
not to please, in the least degree, either the 
fancy or the ear. This is tolerable only in 
pure didactic writing ; and even there to make 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 283 

us bear it, great solidity of matter is necessary, 
and entire perspicuity of language. 

A plain style advances one degree above a dry 
one. A writer of tbis character employs very 
little ornament of any kind, and rests almost en- 
tirely upon his sense. But, though he does not 
engage us by the arts of composition, he avoids 
disgusting us like a dry and harsh writer. Be- 
sides perspicuity, he observes propriety, purity, 
and precision, in his language; which form no 
inconsiderable degree of beauty. Liveliness and 
force are also compatible with a plain style; and, 
consequently, such an author, if his sentiments 
be good, may be sufficiently agreeable. The 
difference between a dry and a plain writer is, 
that the former is incapable of ornament, — the 
latter goes not in pursuit of it. Of those who 
have employed the plain style, Dean Swift is an 
eminent example. 

A neat style is next in order ; and here we are 
advanced into the region of ornament ; but that 
ornament is not of the most sparkling kind. A 
writer of this character shows that he does not 
despise the beauty of language, by his attention 
to the choice of his words, and to their graceful 
collocation. His sentences are always free from 
the incumbrance of superfluous words; are of a 
moderate length ; rather inclining to brevity 
than a swelling structure ; and closing with pro- 
priety. There is variety in his cadence ; but no 
appearance of studied harmony. His figures, 
if any, are short and accurate, rather than bold 
and glowing. Such a style may be attained by 
a writer whose powers of fancy or genius are 
not extensive, by industry and attention. This 
sort of style is not unsuitable to any subject 
whatever. A familiar epistle, or a law paper, 
on the driest subject, may be composed with 



284 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

neatness ; and a sermon, or a philosophical trea- 
tise, in a neat style, will be read with satis- 
faction. 

An elegant style admits a higher degree of 
ornament than a neat one • and possesses all the 
virtues of ornament, without any of its excesses 
or defects. Complete elegance implies great 
perspicuity and propriety ; purity in the choice 
of words, and carefulness and skill in their har- 
monious and happy arrangement. It implies 
farther, — the beauty of imagination spread over 
style, as far as the subject allows it, — and all the 
illustration which figurative language affords, 
when properly employed. An elegant writer, 
in short, is one who delights the fancy and the 
ear, while he informs the understanding; and 
who clothes his ideas with all the beauty of ex- 
pression, but does not overload them with any of 
its misplaced finery. 



Style — Simple; Effected; Vehement. 

Directions for forming a proper Style* 

Simplicity, applied to writing, is a term very 
commonly used, but, like many other critical 
terms, it is often used vaguely, and without pre- 
cision. The different meanings given to the word 
simplicity have been the chief cause of this inac- 
curacy. It will not, therefore, be improper to 
make a distinction between them, and show in 
what sense simplicity is a proper attribute of 
style. There are four different acceptations in 
which this term is taken. 

The first is simplicity of composition, which 
is opposed to too great a variety of parts. This 
is the simplicity of plan in a tragedy, as dis- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 285 

tinguished from double plots and crowded inci- 
dents; the simplicity of the Iliad, in opposition 
to the digressions of Lucan; the simplicity of Gre- 
cian architecture, in opposition to the irregula- 
rity of the Gothic — Simplicity, in this sense, is 
the same as unity. 

The second sense, is simplicity of thought in 
opposition to refinement. Simple thoughts are 
those which flow naturally, which are easily sug- 
gested by the subject or occasion, and which, 
when once suggested, are universally understood. 
Refinement in writing means a less obvious and 
natural turn of thought, which, when carried 
too far, approaches to intricacy, and is unpleas- 
ing, by the appearance of being far sought. Thus 
we should say, that Mr. Parnell is a poet of much 
greater simplicity, in his turn of thought, than 
Mr. Cowley. 

A third sense of simplicity — that in which it 
regards style, is opposed to too much ornament 
or pomp of language. Thus, we say, Mr. Locke 
is a simple, Mr. Hervey a florid, writer. 

There is a fourth sense of simplicity, which al- 
so respects style : but it regards not so much the 
degree of ornament employed as the easy and na- 
tural manner in which language is expressive of 
our thoughts. In this sense, simplicity is*com- 
patible with the highest ornament. Homer, 
for example, has this simplicity in the great- 
est perfection ; and yet no writer possesses more 
ornament and beauty. This simplicity, which 
is now the object of our consideration, stands op- 
posed not to ornament but to affectation of orna- 
ment; and is a superior excellency in compo- 
sition. 

A writer who has attained simplicity has no 
marks of art in his expression ; it appears the 
very language of nature. We see not the writer 



286 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and his labour, but the man in his own natural 
character. He may possess richness of expression ; 
he may be full of figures and of fancy; but 
these flow from him without difficulty ; and he 
seems to write in this manner, not because he has 
studied it 9 but because it is the mode of expression 
most familiar and easy to him. With this cha- 
racter of style, a certain degree of negligence is 
not inconsistent, nor even ungraceful ; for too 
accurate an attention to words is foreign to it. 
Simplicity of style possesses this considerable ad- 
vantage, that, like simplicity of manners, it 
shows us a man's sentiments and turn of mind 
laid open without disguise. A more studied and 
artificial mode of writing, however beautiful, 
has always this disadvantage, that it exhibits an 
author in form, like a man at court, where the 
splendour of dress, and the ceremonial of beha- 
viour, conceal those peculiarities which distin- 
guish one individual from another. But read- 
ing an author of simplicity is like conversing 
with a person of rank at home, and with ease, 
where we see his natural manners and his real 
character. 

With regard to simplicity, in general, we may 
observe, that the ancient original writers are al- 
ways the most eminent for it. This proceeds 
from a very obvious cause, that they wrote from 
the dictates of natural genius, and were not form- 
ed upon the labours and writings of others. 

Of affectation in style, which is opposed to 
simplicity, we have a remarkable instance in our 
language. Lord Shaftesbury, though an author 
of considerable merit, can express nothing with 
simplicity. He seems to have considered it as 
vulgar, and beneath the dignity of a man of 
fashion, to speak like other men. Hence he is 
perpetually in buskins, replete with circumlocu- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 287 

tions and artificial elegance. In every sentence 
the marks of labour are visible, — no appearance 
of that ease which expresses a sentiment coming 
natural and warm from the heart. He abounds 
with figures and ornament of every kind, — is 
sometimes happy in them ; but his fondness for 
them is too conspicuous ; and having once seized 
some metaphor or allusion that pleased him, he 
knows not how to part with it. He possessed 
delicacy and refinement of taste to a degree that 
mav be called excessive and sickly ; but he had 
little warmth of passion ; and the coldness of his 
character suggested that artificial and stately 
manner which appears in his writings. No author 
is more dangerous to the tribe of imitators than 
Shaftesbury, who, amidst several very consider- 
able blemishes, has, at the same time, many 
dazzling and imposing beauties. 

It is very possible, however, for an author to 
write with simplicity, and yet to be destitute of 
beauty. He may be free from affectation, and 
not have merit. The beautiful simplicity sup- 
poses an author in possession of real genius, and 
capable of writing with solidity, purity, and 
brilliancy of imagination. In this case, the sim- 
plicity of his manner is the crowning ornament: 
it gives lustre to every other beauty; it is the 
dress of nature, without which all beauties are 
but imperfect. But if the mere absence of affec- 
tation were sufficient to constitute the beauty of 
style, weak and dull writers might often have 
pretensions to it. A distinction, therefore, must 
be made, between that simplicity which accom- 
panies true genius, and which is entirely com- 
patible with every proper ornament of style, and 
that which is the effect only of carelessness and 
inattention. 

Another character of stvle, different from those 



288 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

which have been already mentioned, is the vehe- 
ment. This always supposes strength, and is 
not, in any respect, incompatible with simplicity. 
It is distinguished by a peculiar ardour ; it is the 
language of a man whose imagination and pas- 
sions are glowing and impetuous. With a neg- 
ligence of lesser graces, he pours himself forth 
with the rapidity and plenitude of a torrent. The 
vehement belongs to the higher kinds of oratory; 
and is rather expected from a man who is speak- 
ing, than from one who is writing in his closet. 
Demosthenes is the most full and perfect example 
of this species of style. 

Having determined and explained the differ- 
ent characters of style, we shall conclude our ob- 
servations with a few directions for the attainment 
of excellence in writing. 

The first direction proper to be observed is, to 
study clear ideas on the subject concerning which 
we are to write or to speak. What we conceive 
clearly and feel strongly we shall naturally ex- 
press with clearness and with strength. We 
should, therefore, think closely on the subject, 
till we have attained a full and distinct view of 
the matter which we are to clothe in words,— 
till we become warm and interested in it : then 
and then only, shall we find a proper expression 
begin to flow. 

In the second place, to the acquisition of a 
good style, the frequency of composing is indis- 
pensably requisite. But it is not every kind of 
composing which will improve style. By a care- 
less and hasty habit of writing, a bad style will 
be acquired ; more trouble will afterwards be 
necessary to unlearn faults, and correct negli- 
gence, than to endeavour, from a state of entire 
ignorance, to become acquainted with the first 
rudiments of composition. In the beginning. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 289 

therefore, we ought to write with deliberation 
and with care. Facility and speed are the fruit 
of practice and experience. We must be cau- 
tious, however, not to retard the course of 
thought, nor cool the ardour of imagination, by 
pausing too long on every word we employ. On 
certain occasions, there is aglow of composition 
which must be kept up, if we expect to express 
ourselves happily, though at the expense of some 
inaccuracies. A more severe examination must 
be the work of correction. What we have writ- 
ten should be laid by for some time, till the 
ardour of composition be subsided, till the par- 
tiality for our expressions be weakened, and the 
expressions themselves be forgotten : and then 
examining our work with a cool and critical eye, 
as if it were the performance of another, we shall 
discover many imperfections which at first es- 
caped our notice. 

In the third place, an acquaintance with the 
style of the best authors is peculiarly requisite. 
Hence a just taste will be formed, and a co- 
pious fund be supplied, of words on every sub- 
ject. No exercise, perhaps, will be found more 
useful for acquiring a proper style, than to 
translate some passage from an elegant author 
into our own words. Thus, to take, for in- 
stance, a page of one of Mr. Addison's Specta- 
tors, and read it attentively two or three times, 
till we are in full possession of the thoughts it 
contains ; then to lay aside the book, to endea- 
vour to write out the passage from memory, as 
well as we can, — and then to compare what we 
have written with the style of the author. Such 
an exercise will, by comparison, show us our 
own defects ; will teach us to correct them ; 
and, from the variety of expression which it will 

u 



290 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

exhibit, will conduct us to that which is most 
beautiful and perfect. 

In the fourth place, a caution must be given 
against a servile imitation of any one author 
whatever.. A desire of imitating hampers genius, 
and generally produces a stiffness of expression. 
They who follow an author minutely commonly 
copy his faults as well as his beauties. No one 
will ever become an accomplished writer or 
speaker, who has not some confidence in his own 
genius. We ought carefully to avoid using any 
author's particular phrases, or transcribing pas- 
sages from him : such a habit will be fatal to all 
genuine composition. It is much better to pos- 
sess something of our own, though of inferior 
beauty, than to endeavour to shine in borrowed 
ornaments, which will, at last, betray the utter 
barrenness of our genius. 

In the fifth place, it is a plain but important 
rule, with regard to style, that we always endea- 
vour to adapt it to the subject, and likewise to 
the capacity of our hearers, if we are to speak 
in public. To attempt a poetical, florid style, 
when it should be our business only to argue and 
reason, is in the highest degree awkward and 
absurd. To speak with elaborate pomp of words, 
before those who cannot comprehend them, is 
equally ridiculous and useless. When we begin 
to write or speak, we should previously impress 
on our minds a complete idea of the end to be 
aimed at ; keep this steadily in view, and adapt 
our style to it. 

We must, in the last place, recommend, that 
an attentive regard to style do not occupy us so 
much, as to detract from a higher degree of at- 
tention to the thoughts. This rule is the more 
necessary, since the present taste of the age seems 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 291 

to be directed more to style than to thought. It 
is much more easy to dress up trifling and com- 
mon thoughts with some ornament of expression, 
than to afford a fund of vigorous, ingenious, and 
useful sentiments. The latter requires genius ; 
the former may be attained by industry, with the 
aid of very superficial parts. Hence the crowd 
of writers who are rich in words, but poor in 
sentiments. Custom obliges us not to be inatten- 
tive to the ornaments of style, if we wish that our 
labours should be read and admired. But he is 
a contemptible writer, who looks not beyond the 
dress of language, who lays not the chief stress 
upon his matter, and who does not regard orna- 
ment as a secondary and inferior recommendation. 
With respect to the figures of Rhetoric with 
which style is so much invigorated and embel- 
lished, See page 172. 



Thus far, with the most trifling alterations, 
I have followed Dr. Blair, who, in those parts 
of oratory called Disposition and Elocution, or 
a choice and arrangement of words, has exceed- 
ed every writer who went before him. I flatter 
myself that in Pronunciation or Delivery, which 
forms the last part of oratory, something more 
systematical and satisfactory has been offered in 
the present work, than in any that has hitherto 
been published. But there is another part of ora- 
tory called Invention, that has been but little 
insisted on by our modern writers, which, how- 
ever, seems to form the basis of the art. Dr. 
Blair has not only omitted but discountenanced 
this part of rhetoric ; and such an opinion have 
I of the good sense of this writer, that I should 
much doubt of its utility, if the very reason of 

u 2 



292 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the thing, as well as the authority of the ancients, 
and some of the most respectable among the 
moderns, did not sanction and recommend it. 
Dr. Priestley's reasons for the use of topics ap- 
pear to me unanswerable. 

" I am aware (says he) that this whole business 
" of topics is objected to by some as altogether 
" useless, and what no persons, who are capable 
" of composing at all, ever stand in need of, or 
" have recourse to." To this I reply, that in fact 
no person ever did, or ever can compose at all, 
without having recourse to something of a simi- 
lar nature. What is recollection but the intro- 
duction of one idea into the mind by means of 
another with which it was previously associated ? 
Are not ideas associated by means of their con- 
nection with, and relation to, one another ? And 
is it not very possible, that particular ideas may 
be recollected by means of general ideas, which 
include them ? 

It is impossible, to endeavour to recollect (or 
as we generally say, invent) materials for a dis- 
course, without running over in our minds such 
general heads of discourse as we have found by 
experience to assist us in that operation. It is 
even impossible to conceive in what other man- 
ner a voluntary effort to invent, or recollect, can 
be directed. A person may not have recourse 
to any particular list, or enumeration of topics ; 
or he may never have heard of the artificial dis- 
tribution of them by rhetoricians : but if he com- 
pose at all, though he may be ignorant of the 
name, he must be possessed of the thing. And if 
a person have any regular method in his compo- 
sitions, he must, moreover, have arranged those 
topics in his mind in some kind of order ; the 
several particulars of which, being attended to 
successively, furnish him with a plan for com- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 293 

position. Now is it not better to sit down to 
composition provided with a tolerably complete 
list of those topics, digested with care and pre- 
cision, than make use of such a one as we casually 
and without any design form to ourselves from 
general reading only, or a little practice in com- 
position, which cannot but be very imperfect, and 
inadequate to the purpose to which it is applied? 

After previously running over such a table, a 
person would be much better able to form an 
idea of the extent of his subject, and might con- 
duct his composition accordingly ; or perusing it 
after reading the composition of another, he 
might with much greater certainty know whether 
any thing of importance had been left unsaid 
upon the subject : or whether, if the discourse 
were necessarily limited to a few arguments, the 
writer had selected the best. 

If we pay any regard to the practice of the 
famous orators of antiquity, we cannot but be 
disposed to think favourable of topics ; for it is 
certain that they made great use of topics, as 
appears in the writings of Cicero and Quintilian. 
Too much may be expected from any thing, and 
an improper use may be made of any thing; but 
this is no argument against the judicious and 
proper use of it. 

It were absurd for any person slavishly to 
oblige himself to borrow something from every 
topic of discourse ; much more to set it down in 
the order in which they may happen to be enu- 
merated ; but, having glanced the whole, let 
him take what is most to his purpose, and omit 
every thing that would appear far-fetched, or to 
be introduced for the sake of swelling the buU 
of a discourse. 

I am very ready, however, to acknowledge, 
that rhetorical topics are more useful in the 



iU RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

composition of set declamations on trite subjects, 
and to young persons, than in the communication 
of original matter, and to persons much used to 
composition. Original thoughts cannot but sug- 
gest themselves, so that all the assistance any 
person can want in this case is a proper manner 
of arranging them. And a person much used to 
composition will have acquired a habit of recol- 
lection, without any express attention to topics ; 
just as a person used to the harpsicord, or any 
other instrument of music, will be able to per- 
form without an express attention to rules, or 
even to the manner of placing his fingers. His 
idea of the tune in general is so closely associated 
with all the motions of his fingers necessary to 
the playing of it, and these motions are also so 
closely associated together, that they follow one 
another mechanically, in what Dr. Hartley calls 
a secondarily automatic manner, which is almost 
as certain as a motion originally and properly 
automatic. 

As rules for invention, or, as Dr. Priestley 
more properly calls it, recollection, are established 
by such good reasons, and on so respectable 
authority, I shall present the student with a large 
extract from the System of Oratory of the learned 
Dr. Ward, professor of Gresham College. And 
as this book has long been out of print, and is 
scarcely to be got, I flatter myself I shall make 
my reader no unacceptable present, by giving 
him the learned professor's Lectures on Inven- 
tion, or that part of rhetoric which treats on the 
method of finding out arguments for the proof of 
what is proposed. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 295 



Of the principal Distribution of Oratory. 

The principal distribution of the subject of 
oratory is made, by dividing it into three kinds 
of discourse, called by the ancients demonstra- 
tive, deliberative, and judicial. The first of these 
comprehends all such discourses as relate to the 
praise or dispraise of persons or things. This is 
a very extensive field, and contains in it what- 
ever in nature or art, on the account of any good 
or bad qualities, excellences or defects, is fit to 
be made the subject of a discourse. By this, 
virtue is applauded, and vice censured ; good 
examples recommended to the imitation of others, 
and bad ones exposed to their abhorrence. All 
panegyric and invective are its proper themes. 
So that the chief design of these discourses is to 
inspire men with generous sentiments of honour 
and virtue, and to give them a distaste to every 
thing that is base and vicious, by examples of 
each, which are the most powerful means of in- 
struction. Though, as has been said already, 
they are not wholly confined to persons. To the 
deliberative kind belongs whatever may become 
a subject of debate, consultation, or advice. Of 
this sort are all speeches made in public assem- 
blies, which respect the common good and be- 
nefit of mankind, their lives, liberties, and estates; 
whatever is advised to, or dissuaded from, upon 
the foot of any valuable interest, which is the end 
proposed in these discourses, so far as it is con- 
sistent with honour and justice. The last head 
contains all judicial subjects ; by this property is 
secured, innocence protected, justice maintained, 
and crimes punished. All matters canvassed at 
the bar are of this sort. And it is doubtless a 



296 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

very valuable and useful end in speaking, to vin- 
dicate justice and equity in opposition to fraud 
or violence. Aristotle is said to have been the 
author of this division, which seems to be very 
just ; since perhaps there is no subject of oratory, 
whether sacred or civil, but may be referred to 
one or other of these heads, as will be shown 
hereafter, when I come to treat of each of them 
in particular. 

Of Invention in general, and particularly of 
Common Places. 

Invention, considered in general, is the disco- 
very of such things as are proper to persuade. 
And in order to attain this end, the orator pro- 
poses to himself three things : to prove or illus- 
trate the subject upon which he treats, to conci- 
liate the minds of his hearers, and to engage 
their passions in his favour. And as these re- 
quire different kinds of arguments or motives, 
invention furnishes him with a supply for each of 
them, as will be shown in their order. 

I shall first consider that part of Invention, 
which directs to arguments proper for the proof 
of a thing ; which, as Cicero tells us, is " the 
cc discovery of such things as are really true, or 
Cf that seem to be so, and make the thing, for 
ce which they are produced, appear probable. " 
And the things, which are thus discovered, are 
called Arguments ; for, " an Argument," as de- 
fined by him, <e is a reason, which induces us to 
<c believe what before we doubted of." If we 
reflect upon those things, which relate to the 
common affairs of life, and the numerous trans- 
actions between mankind, we shall find that 
most of them are of a dubious nature, and liable 
to various constructions, as they are taken in 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 297 

different views ; whence a diversity of opinions 
is formed concerning them. And where the na- 
ture of the thing does not admit of certainty, 
every considerate and prudent person will give 
into that side of the question, which carries in it 
the greater degree of probability. And as these 
are the subjects with which the ancient orators 
were principally concerned, we find, by Cicero's 
definition, that all he requires of such arguments 
as they commonly made use of, is to render a 
thing probable. Indeed there are some things 
which do not so much require reasoning, as a 
proper and suitable manner of representing them, 
to make them credible ; and because the several 
ways of illustrating these are also taught by the 
precepts of this art, they are likewise, in a large 
sense of the word, called arguments. 

But as different kinds of discourses require 
different arguments, rhetoricians have considered 
them two ways; in general, under certain heads, 
as a common fund for all subjects ; and in a 
more particular manner, as they are suited to 
demonstrative *, deliberative, or judicial discourses. 
At present I shall treat only upon the former of 
these. And now, that one thing may receive 
proof and confirmation from another, it is ne- 
cessary that there be some relation between them : 
for all things are not equally adapted to prove 
one another. 

That we may the better conceive this, I shall 
make use of a plain and familiar instance. In 
measuring the quantity of two things which we 
would show to be either equal or unequal, if 
they are of such a nature that one cannot be 
applied to the other, then we take a third thing, 
which may be applied to them both, — and that 
must be equal at least to one of the two, which, 



298 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

if applied to the other, and found equal to that 
also, we presently conclude that those two things 
are equal ; but if it be unequal to the other, we 
say that those two things are unequal. Because 
it is the certain and known property of all quan- 
tities, that whatsoever two things are equal to a 
third, are equal to one another ; and where one 
of any two things is equal to a third, and the 
other unequal, those two things are unequal to 
one another. What has been said of quantities 
will hold true in all other cases, — that so far as 
any two things or ideas agree to a third, so far 
they agree to one another. And by agreeing, I 
understand this, that the one may be affirmed of 
the other. So likewise on the contrary, as far as 
one of any two things or ideas does agree to a 
third, and the other does not, so far they disa- 
gree with one another, in which respect one of 
them cannot be truly affirmed of the other. Since 
therefore in every proposition one thing is spoken 
of another, if we would find out whether the 
two ideas agree to each other or not, where this 
is not evident of itself, we must find out some 
third thing the idea of which agrees to one of 
them ; and then that being applied to the other, 
as it does agree or disagree with it, so we may 
conclude that the two things proposed do agree 
or disagree with one another. 

This will be made more clear by an example 
or two. Should it be inquired, Whether virtue 
is to be loved? the agreement between virtue 
and love might be found by comparing them se- 
parately with happiness, as a common measure 
to both. For since the idea of happiness agrees 
to that of love, and the idea of virtue to that of 
happiness, it follows that the ideas of virtue 
and love agree to one another ; and therefore it 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 299 

may be affirmed, That virtue is to be loved. But 
on the contrary, because the idea of misery dis- 
agrees with that of love, but the idea of vice 
agrees to that of misery, the two ideas of vice and 
love must consequently disagree with one another; 
and therefore it would be false to assert, That 
vice is to be loved. Now this third thing logi- 
cians call the medium or middle term, because it 
does as it were connect two extremes, that is, 
both parts of a proposition. But rhetoricians 
call it an argument, because it is so applied to 
what was before proposed, as to become the in- 
strument of procuring our assent to it. I have 
mentioned these plain examples only for illustra- 
tion, by which we may in some measure perceive 
the nature and use of arguments. 

But whence, and by what methods they are to 
be sought, I shall now explain. 

A lively imagination and readiness of thought 
are undoubtedly a very great help to invention. 
Some persons are naturally endued with that 
quickness of fancy and penetration of mind, 
that they are seldom at a loss for arguments 
either to defend their own opinions, or to attack 
their adversaries. However these things being 
the gift of nature, and not to be gained by art, 
do not properly fall under our present considera- 
tion. 

But because all are not born with a like happy 
genius, and have not the same opportunity to 
cultivate their minds with learning and know- 
ledge, and because nothing is more difficult 
than to dwell long upon the consideration of one 
thing, in order to find out the strongest ar- 
guments which may be offered for and against 
it, — upon these accounts art has prescribed a 
method to lessen in some measure these difficul- 
ties, and help every one to a supply of argu- 



300 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ments upon any subject. And this is done by 
the contrivance of common places, which Cicero 
calls the seats or heads of arguments, and, by a 
Greek name, topics. They are of two sorts, in- 
ternal and external. As to the former, though 
things with regard to their nature and proper- 
ties are exceedingly various, yet they have certain 
common relations, by means whereof the truth 
of what is either affirmed or denied concerning 
them in any respect may be evinced. The an- 
cient Greek rhetoricians therefore reduced these 
relations to some general heads ; which are term- 
ed common places, because the reasons or argu- 
ments suited to prove any proposition are repo- 
sited in them, as a common fund or receptacle. 
And they are called internal heads, because they 
arise from the subject upon which the orator 
treats ; and are therefore distinguished from 
others named external, which he fetches from 
without, and applies to his present purpose, as 
will be shown hereafter. Cicero and Quintilian 
make them sixteen ; three of which comprehend 
the whole thing they are brought to prove ; 
namely, Definition, Enumeration, and Notation ; 
and of the remaining thirteen some contain a part 
of it, and the rest its various properties and cir- 
cumstances, with other considerations relating to 
it ; and these are Genus, Species, Antecedents, 
Consequents, Adjuncts, Conjugates, Cause, Effect, 
Contraries, Opposites, Similitude, Dissimilitude; 
and Comparison. I shall give a brief account of 
each of these, in the order now mentioned. 

Definition explains the nature of the thing 
defined, and shows what it is. And to whatso- 
ever the definition agrees, the thing defined does 
so likewise. If therefore Socrates be a rational 
creature, he is a man ; because it is the definition 
of a man that he is a rational creature. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 301 

Enumeration takes in all the parts of a thing. 
And from this we prove, that what agrees to all 
the parts agrees to the whole ; and what does 
not agree to any one or more parts, does not 
agree to the whole. As when Cicero proves to 
Piso, that all the Roman state hated him; by 
enumerating the several ranks and orders of 
Roman Citizens, who all did so. 

Notation or Etymology explains the mean- 
ing or signification of a word. From which we 
reason thus ; If he cannot pay his debts, he is in- 
solvent; for that is the meaning of the word 
insolvent. 

Genus is what contains under it two or more 
sorts of things, differing in nature. From this 
head logicians reason thus : because every animal 
is mortal, and man is an animal, therefore man is 
mortal. But orators make a further use of this 
argument, which they call ascending from the 
hypothesis to the thesis, that is, from a particular 
to a general. As should a person, when speak- 
ing in praise of justice, take occasion thence to 
commend and show the excellency of virtue in 
general, with a view to render that particular vir- 
tue more amiable. For since every species con- 
tains in it the whole nature of the genus to which 
it relates, besides what is peculiar to itself, where- 
by it is distinguished from it, — what is affirmed 
of the genus must of necessity be applicable to 
the species. 

Species is that which comprehends under it all 
the individuals of the same nature. From hence 
we may argue : He is a man, therefore he has a 
rational soul. And orators sometimes take oc- 
casion from this head to descend from the thesis 
to the hypothesis ; that is, in treating upon what 
is more general to introduce some particular con- 
tained under it, for the greater illustration of the 
general. 



302 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Antecedents are such things, as being once al- 
lowed, others necessarily, or very probably follow. 
From this head an inseparable property is prov- 
ed from its subject : as, it is material, and there- 
fore corruptible. 

Consequents are such things, as being allowed, 
necessarily, or very probably, infer their antece- 
dents. Hence the subject is proved from an in- 
separable property in this manner ; it is corrupti- 
ble, and therefore material. 

Adjuncts are separable properties of things, or 
circumstances that attend them. These are very 
numerous, and afford a great variety of argu- 
ments, some of which usually occur in every dis- 
course. They do not necessarily infer their sub- 
ject, but, if fitly chosen, render a thing credible, 
and are a sufficient ground for assent. The 
way of reasoning from them we shall show pre- 
sently. 

Conjugates are words deduced from the same 
origin with that of our subject. By these the 
habit is proved from its acts ; as, he who does 
justly is just. He does not act wisely, therefore 
he is not wi§e. But this inference will not hold, 
unless the actions appear continued and con- 
stant. 

A cause is that, by the force of which a thing 
does exist. There are four kinds of causes, — 
matter, form, efficient, and end, which afford a 
great variety of arguments. The way of reason- 
ing from them is to infer the effect from the cause : 
as, Man is endued with reason, therefore he is 
capable of knowledge. 

An effect is that which arises from a cause, 
therefore the cause is proved by it; as, He 
is endued with knowledge, therefore with rea- 
son. 

Contraries are things which, under the 
same genus, are at the utmost distance from each 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 303 

other. So that what we grant to the one we ut- 
terly deny the other : as, Virtue ought to be em- 
braced, therefore vice should be avoided. 

Opposites are such things, which, though re- 
pugnant to each other, yet are not directly con- 
tradictory : as, to love and to injure ; to hate and 
to commend. They differ from contraries in this, 
that they do not absolutely exclude one another. 
An argument is drawn from things repugnant 
thus : He will do a man a mischief, therefore he 
does not love him. He loves a man, therefore he 
will not reproach him. 

Similitude is an agreement of things in qua- 
lity. Thus Cicero proves, that pernicious citi- 
zens ought to be taken out of the state; by the 
likeness they bear to corrupted members, which 
are cut off to prevent further damage to the 
body. 

Dissimilitude is a disagreement of things in 
quality. From this head Cicero shows the pre- 
ference of his own exile to Piso's Government of 
Macedonia: by the difference between their con- 
duct, and the people's esteem of them. 

Comparison is made three ways : for either 
a thing is compared with a greater, with a less, 
or with its equal. This place therefore differs 
from that of similitude on this account, that the 
quality was considered in that, but here the quan- 
tity. An argument from the greater is thus 
drawn : If five legions could not conquer the 
enemy, much less will two. And by this the 
manner of the rest may be easily conceived. 

I shall just give one example somewhat 
larger than I have hitherto done of the man- 
ner of reasoning from these heads, whereby the 
uee of them may further appear. If any one 
therefore should have endeavoured to persuade 
Cicero not to accept of his life upon the condi- 



304 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

tion offered him by Antony., — that he would burn 
his Philippic orations, which had been spoken 
against him, — he might be supposed to use such 
arguments as these : partly taken from the ad- 
juncts of Cicero, partly from those of Antony, and 
partly from the thing itself. And first with re- 
gard to Cicero it might be said : That so great a 
man ought not to purchase his life at so dear a 
price, as the loss of that immortal honour which, 
by so great pains and labour, he had acquired. 
And this might be confirmed by another argument : 
That now he was grown old and could not ex- 
pect to live much longer. And from the charac- 
ter of Antony he might argue thus : That he was 
very crafty and deceitful, and only designed, by 
giving him hopes of life, to have the Philippics 
first burnt, which otherwise he knew would trans- 
mit to posterity an eternal brand of infamy upon 
him, and then he would take off the author. And 
this might be shown by comparison : For since 
he would not spare others, who had not so high- 
ly exasperated him, and from whom he had not 
so much to fear, certainly he would not forgive 
Cicero, since he knew well enough, that, so long 
as he lived, he himself could never be in safety. 
And lastly an argument might also be fetched 
from the nature of the thing itself in the follow- 
ing manner : That Cicero by this action would 
shamefully betray the state, and the cause of li- 
berty, which he had, through his whole life, most 
courageously defended, with so great honour to 
himself, and advantage to the public. Upon such 
an account a person might have used these, or 
the like arguments with Cicero, which arise from 
the forementioned heads. 

From this account of Common Places it is easy 
to conceive what a large field of discourse they 
open to the mind upon every subject. These 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 305 

different considerations furnish out a great number 
and variety of arguments,, sufficient to supply the 
most barren invention. He can never be at a loss 
for matter who considers well the nature of his 
subject, the parts of which it consists, the circum- 
stances which attend it, the causes whence it 
springs, the effects it produces, its agreement, dis- 
agreement, or repugnancy to other things, — ■ 
and in like manner carries it through all the re- 
maining heads. But although this method will 
assist us very much to enlarge upon a subject, 
and place it in different views, yet a prudent man 
is not so desirous to say a great deal as to speak 
to the purpose, and therefore will make choice of 
proper arguments, and such only which have a di- 
rect tendency to confirm or illustrate his subject. 
And for this end it is necessary for him to gain first 
a thorough knowledge of his subject, and then 
arguments will naturally spring up in his mind 
proper to Support it ; and if he be still at a loss, 
and find occasion to have recourse to these heads, 
he will readily perceive whence to take those 
which are best suited to his purpose. 



Of External Topics. 

The nature and design of Common Places 
have been shown already ; and a particular ac- 
count of those which, because they are taken 
from the subject matter of a discourse, are there- 
fore called internal, has likewise been given. 
But the orator sometimes reasons from such to- 
pics as do not arise from his subject, but from 
things of a different nature, and for that reason, 
are called external. And because the former 
are more properly invented by him, and the 
effect of his art, Aristotle calls them artificial 

x 



306 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

topics, and the latter inartificial. But as they 
both require skill in the management, Quintilian 
very much blames those who take no notice of 
these latter, but exclude them from the art of rhe- 
toric. I propose, therefore, to make them the 
subject of my present discourse, and show the 
methods of reasoning from them. They are all 
taken from authorities, and are, by one general 
name called Testimonies. 

Now a Testimony may be expressed by writing, 
speech, or any other sign proper to declare a per- 
son's mind. And all testimonies may be distin- 
guished into two sorts, divine and human. A di- 
vine testimony, when certainly known to be such, 
is incontestable, and admits of no debate, but 
should be acquiesced in without hesitation. In- 
deed the ancient Greeks and Romans esteemed 
the pretended oracles of their deities, the answers 
of their augurs, and the like fallacies, divine tes- 
timonies. But with us, no one can be ignorant 
of their true notion, though they do not so di- 
rectly come under our present consideration. 
Human Testimonies are of various kinds ; but as 
they furnish the orator with arguments (in which 
view I am now to consider them), they may be 
reduced to three heads; Writings, [Fitnesses, and 
Contracts. 

By JVritingshexe are to be understood written 
laws, wills, or other legal instruments, express- 
ed and conveyed in that manner. And it is 
not so much the force and validity of such tes- 
timonies, considered in themselves, that is here 
intended, as the occasion of dispute which 
may at any time arise concerning their true 
design and import, when produced in proof 
upon either side of a controversy. And these are 
five : Ambiguity, Disagreement between the 
xvords and intention, Contrariety, Reasoning, and 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 307 

Interpretation. I shall speak to each of these in 
their order. 

A writing is then said to he ambiguous, when 
it is capable of two or more senses, which 
makes the writer's design uncertain. Now am- 
biguity may arise either from single words, or 
the construction of sentences. From single 
words; as when either the sense of a word, or 
the application of it, is doubtful. As: should 
it be questioned, zvh ether ready money ought to 
be included under the appellation of chattels left 
by a will. Or : if a testator bequeath a cer- 
tain legacy to his nephew Thomas, and he has 
two nephews of that name. But ambiguity is 
also sometimes occasioned from the construc- 
tion of a sentence; as when several things or 
persons having been already mentioned, it is 
doubtful to which of them that which follows 
ought to be referred. For example : a person 
writes thus in his will: Let my heir give as a 
legacy to Titius, a horse out of my stable, which 
he pleases. Here it may be questioned whe- 
ther the word he refers to the heir, or to Ti- 
tius; and consequently, whether the heir be 
allowed to give Titius which horse he pleases, 
or Titius may choose which lie likes best. Now 
as to controversies of this kind, in the first 
case above mentioned, the party who claims 
the chattels may plead, that all moveable goods 
come under that name, and therefore that he 
has a right to the money. This he will en- 
deavour to prove from some instances where the 
word has been so used. The business of the 
opposite party is to refute this,, by showing that 
money is not there included. And if either side 
produce precedents in his favour, the other may 
endeavour to show the cases are not parallel. 
As to the second case, arising from an ambi^ 

x 2 



308 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

guity in the name, if any other words or expres- 
sions in the will seem to countenance either of 
the claimants,, he will not fail to interpret them 
to his advantage. So likewise if any thing said 
by the testator, in his life time,, or any regard 
shown to either of these nephews more than the 
other, may help to determine which of them 
was intended, a proper use may be made of it. 
And the same may be said with regard to the 
third case. In which the legatee may reason 
likewise from the common use of language, and 
show, that in such expressions it is unusual to 
make the reference to the last or next ante- 
cedent; and thence plead, that it was the 
design of the testator to give him the option. 
But in answer to this it may be said, that allow- 
ing it to be very often so, yet in this instance it 
seems more easy and natural to repeat the verb 
give after please, and so to supply the sentence, 
which he pleases to give him, referring it to the 
heir, than to bring in the verb choose, which 
was not in the sentence before and so by sup- 
plying the sense, which he pleases to choose, to 
give the option to Titius. But where controversies 
of this kind arise from a law, recourse maj be had 
to other laws, where the same thing has been ex- 
pressed with greater clearness, which may help to 
determine the sense of the passage in dispute. 

A second controversy from Writings is, when 
one party adheres to the zvords and the other to 
what he asserts was the writer's intention. Now 
he who opposes the literal sense, either contends, 
that what he himself offers is the simple and 
plain meaning of the writing, or that it must be 
so understood in the particular case in debate. 
An instance of the former is this, as we find it 
in Cicro. A person who died without children, 
but left a widow, had made this provision in his 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 309 

will : If I have a son bom to me, he shall be 
my heir. And a little after ; If my son die, 
before he comes of age, let Curius be my heir. 
There is no son born, Curius therefore sues for 
the estate, and pleads the intention of the testa- 
tor, who designed him for his heir if he should 
have no son who arrived at age ; and says, there 
can be no reason to suppose he did not intend 
the same person for his heir if he had no son, as 
if he should have one who afterwards died in 
his minority. But the heir at law insists upon 
the words of the will, which, as he says, require 
that first a son should be born, and afterwards 
die under age, before Curius can succeed to the 
inheritance. And there being no son, a substi- 
tuted heir, as Curius was, can have no claim 
where the first heir does not exist, from whom 
he derives his pretension, and was to succeed by 
the appointment of the will. Of the latter case 
rhetoricians give this example : It was forbid- 
den by a law to open the city gates in the night. 
A certain person, notwithstanding, in time of war, 
did open them in the night, and let in some aux- 
iliary troops, to prevent their being cutoff by the 
enemy who zoas posted near the town. After- 
wards, when the Avar was over, this person 
is arraigned, and tried for his life on the ac- 
count of this action. Now in such a case the 
prosecutor founds his charge upon the express 
words of the law; and pleads that no sufficient 
reason can be assigned for going contrary to the 
letter of it, which would be to make a new law, 
and not to execute one already made. The defen- 
dant on the other hand alleges, that the fact he 
is charged with cannot however come within 
the intention of the law ; since he either could 
not, or ought not to have complied with the 
letter of it in that particular case, which must 



310 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

therefore necessarily be supposed to have been 
excepted in the design of that law, when it was 
made. But to this the prosecutor may reply; 
that all such exceptions, as are intended by any 
law, are usually expressed in it: and instances 
may be brought of particular exceptions ex- 
pressed in some laws ; and if there be any such 
exception in the law under debate, it should 
especially be mentioned. He may further add, 
that to admit of exceptions not expressed in the 
law itself, is to enervate the force of all laws by 
explaining them away, and in effect to render 
them useless. And this he may further cor- 
roborate by comparing the law under debate 
with others, and considering its nature and 
importance, and how far the public interest 
of the state is concerned in the due and regu- 
lar execution of it ; whence he may infer, that 
should exceptions be admitted in other laws of 
less consequence, yet, however, they ought not 
in this. Lastly, he may consider the reason al- 
leged by the defendant, on which he founds his 
plea, and show there was not that necessity of 
violating the law in the present case as is pre- 
tended. And this is often the more requisite, 
because the party who disputes against the 
words of the law always endeavours to support 
his allegations from the equity of the case. If, 
therefore, this plea can be enervated, the main 
support of the defendant's cause is removed. 
For as the former arguments are designed to 
prevail with the judge to determine the matter 
on this side the question, from the nature of the 
case, — so the intention of this argument is to in- 
duce him to it, from the weakness of the de- 
fence made by the opposite party. But the de- 
fendant will on the contrary use such argu- 
ments as may best demonstrate the equity of 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 511 

his cause, and endeavour to vindicate the fact 
from his good design and intention in doing it. 
He will say, that the laws have allotted punish- 
ments for the commission of such facts as are evil 
in themselves, or prejudicial to others; neither 
of which can be charged upon the action for 
which he is accused : that no law can be right- 
ly executed, if more regard be had to the words 
and syllables of the writing, than to the in- 
tention of the legislator. To which purpose 
he may allege that direction of the law itself, 
which says : The laxv ought not to be too rigor- 
ously interpreted, nor the words of it strained ; 
but the true intention and design of each part of 
it duly considered. As also, that saying of Cicero : 
What laxv may not be weakened and destroyed, if 
we bend the sense to the words, and do not regard 
the design and viexv of the legislator? Hence he 
may take occasion to complain of the hard- 
ship of such a procedure, that no difference 
should be made between an audacious and 
wilful crime and an honest or necessary action, 
which might happen to disagree with the letter 
of the law, though not with the intent of it. 
And as it was observed before to be of con- 
siderable service to the accuser, if he could 
remove the defendant's plea of equity, — so it will 
be of equal advantage to the defendant, if he can 
fix upon any words in the law which may in 
the least seem to countenance his case, since 
this will take off the main force of the 
charge. 

The third controversy of this kind is, when 
two writings happen to clash with each other, 
or at least seem to do so. Of this Hermogenes 
gives the following instance. One law en- 
joins: He, who continues alone in a ship during 
a tempest, shall have the property of the ship. 



312 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Another law sajs: A disinherited son shall en- 
joy no part of his father's estate. Now a son, 
who had been disinherited by his father, hap- 
pens to be in his father's ship in a tempest, 
and continues there alone, when every one else 
had deserted it. He claims the ship by the 
former of these laws, and his brother tries his 
right with him by the latter. In such cases 
therefore it may first be considered, whether the 
two laws can be reconciled. And if that cannot 
be done, then which of them appears more equi- 
table. Also whether one be positive, and the 
other negative : because prohibitions are a sort 
of exceptions to positive injunctions. Or if one 
be a general law, — and the other more particular, 
and come nearer to the matter in question. 
Likewise which was last made : since former laws 
are often abrogated, either wholly or in part, by 
subsequent laws ; or at least were designed to be 
so. Lastly, it may be observed, whether one of 
the laws be not plain and express, and the other 
more dubious, or has any ambiguity in it. All 
or any of which things that party will not omit 
to improve for his advantage, whose interest is 
concerned in it. 

The fourth controversy is Reasoning; as when 
something not expressly provided for by a law 
is inferred by similitude, or parity of reason from 
what is contained in it. Quintilian mentions 
this instance of it : There was a law made at 
Tarentum to prohibit the exportation of 'wool, 
but a certain person exports sheep. In this case 
the prosecutor may first compare the thing, 
which occasions the charge, with the words of 
the law, and show their agreement, and how 
unnecessary it was that particular thing should 
have been expressly mentioned in the law, since 
it is plainly contained in it, or at least an evident 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 313 

consequence from it. He may then plead that 
many things of a like nature are omitted in other 
laws for the same reason : and, lastly, he may 
urge the reasonableness and equity of the proce- 
dure. The defendant on the other hand will en- 
deavour to show the deficiency of the reasoning, 
and the difference between the two cases. He 
will insist upon the plain and express words of 
the law, and set forth the ill tendency of such 
inferences, and conclusions drawn from simili- 
tudes and comparisons ; since there is scarce any 
thing but in some respect may bear a resemblance 
to another. 

The last controversy under this head is Inter- 
pretation, in which the dispute turns upon the 
true meaning and explication of the law, in re- 
ference to that particular case. We have the 
following instance of this in the Pandects : A 
man who had tzvo sons, both under age, substi- 
tutes Titius as heir to him who should die last, 
provided both of them died in their minority. 
They both perished together at sea, before they 
came to age. Here arises a doubt, xvhether the 
substitution can take place , or the inheritance 
devolves to the heir at law. The latter pleads, 
that as neither of them can be said to have died 
last, the substitution cannot take place, which 
was suspended upon the condition, that, one died 
after the other. But to this it may be said it was 
the intention of the testator that if both died in 
their nonage, Titius should succeed to the inhe- 
ritance ; and therefore it makes no difference 
whether they died together, or one after the 
other ; and so the law determines it. 

The second head of external arguments are 
Witnesses. These may either give their evidence, 
when absent, in writing subscribed with their 
name ; or present, by word of mouth. And 



3U RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

what both of them testify, may either be from 
hearsay, or what they saw themselves, and were 
present at the time it was done. As the weight 
of the evidence may be thought greater or less on 
eaeh of these accounts, either party will make 
such use of it as he finds for his advantage. The 
characters of the witnesses are also to be con- 
sidered; and if any thing be found in their 
lives or behaviour that is justly exceptionable to 
invalidate their evidence, it ought not to be 
omitted. And how they are affected to the con- 
tending parties, or either of them, may deserve 
consideration : for some allowances mav be 
judged reasonable in case of friendship or enmity, 
where there is no room for any other exception. 
But regard should chiefly be had to what they 
testify, and how far the cause is effected by it. 
Cicero is very large upon most of these heads in 
his defence of Marcus Fonteius, with a design 
to weaken the evidence of the Gauls against him. 
And where witnesses are produced on one side 
only, as orators sometimes attempt to lessen the 
credit of this kind of proof, by pleading that 
witnesses are liable to be corrupted or biassed by 
some prevailing interest or passion to which ar- 
guments taken from the nature and circumstances 
of things are not subject, it may be answered on 
the other hand, that sophistical arguments, and 
false colourings, are not exposed to infamy or 
punishment, whereas witnesses are restrained by 
shame and penalties, nor would the law require 
them if they were not necessary. 

The third and last head of external arguments 
are Contracts, which may be either public or 
private. By public are meant the transactions 
between different states, as leagues, alliances, 
and the like ; which depend on the laws of na- 
tions, and come more properly under delibera- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 315 

live discourses, to which I shall refer ihem. Those 
are called private which relate to lesser bodies or 
societies of men, and single persons ; and may be 
either written or verbal. And it is not so much 
the true meaning and purport of them, that is 
here considered, as their force and obligation. 
And as the Roman law declares, Nothing can be 
more agreeable to human faith than that persons 
should stand to their agreements, — therefore in 
controversies of this kind, the party whose in- 
terest it is that the contract should be maintained 
will plead that such covenants have the force of 
private laws, and ought religiously to be ob- 
served, since the common affairs of mankind are 
transacted in that manner; and therefore to vio- 
late them is to destroy all commerce and society 
among men. On the other side it may be said, 
that justice and equity are chiefly to be regarded, 
which are immutable. And besides, that the 
public laws are the common rule to determine 
such differences, which are designed to redress 
those who are aggrieved. And, indeed, where a 
compact has been obtained by force or fraud, it is 
in itself void, and has no effect either in law or 
reason. But on the other hand, the Roman law- 
yers seem to have very rightly determined, that all 
such obligations as are founded in natural equity, 
though not binding by national laws, and are 
therefore called nuda pacta, ought, however, in 
honour and conscience, to be performed. 

Thus I have gone through the common heads 
of invention, both internal and external, which 
may be of service to an orator, when his view is 
to inform his hearers, and prove the truth of what 
he asserts. But the particular application of 
them, to the several sorts of discourses he may 
have occasion to treat upon, I shall now proceed 
to explain. 



316 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 



Of the State of a Controversy, 

The ancients observing, that the principal 
question or point of dispute, in all controversies, 
might be referred to some particular head, re- 
duced those heads to a certain number ; that both 
the nature of the question might by that means 
be better known, and the arguments suited to it 
be discovered with greater ease. And these heads 
they call States, 

By the State of a Controversy then we are to 
understand the principal point in dispute be- 
tween contending parties, upon the proof of 
which the whole cause or controversy depends. 
We find it expressed by several other names in 
ancient writers : as, The constitution of the 
cause, The general head, and The chief question. 
And as this is the principal thing to be attended 
to in every such discourse, so it is what first re- 
quires the consideration of. the speaker, and 
should be well fixed and digested in his mind 
before he proceeds to look for arguments proper 
to support it. For what can be more absurd 
than for a person to attempt the proof of any 
thing before he has well settled in his own mind 
a clear and distinct notion what the thing is 
which he would endeavour to prove ? Quinti- 
lian describes it to be, That kind of question 
xvhich arises from the first conflict of causes. 
In judicial cases it immediately follows upon 
the charge of the plaintiff, and plea of the de- 
fendant. Our common law expresses it by 
one word, namely, the Issue ; which interpre- 
ters explain, by describing it to be, That point 
of matter depending in suit, whereupon the par- 
ties join, and put their cause to the trial. Ex- 
amples will further help to illustrate this, and 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 317 

render it more evident. In the cause of Milo, 
the charge of the Clodian party is, Milo killed 
Clodius. Milo's plea or defence, / killed him, 
but justly. Hence arises this grand question, 
or state of the cause : JVhether it xvas lawful 
for Milo to kill Clodius ? And that Clodius was 
lawfully killed hy Milo, is what Cicero in his 
defence of Milo principally endeavours to prove. 
This is the main subject of that fine and beau- 
tiful oration. The whole of his discourse is to 
be considered as centring at last in this one 
point. Whatever different matters are occa- 
sionally mentioned, will, if closely attended to, 
be found to have been introduced some way or 
other, the better to support and carry on this 
design. Now in such cases, where the fact is 
not denied, but something is offered in its de- 
fence, the state of the cause is taken from the 
defendant's plea, who is obliged to make it 
good. As in the instance here given, the chief 
point in dispute was the lawfulness] of Milo's 
action, which it was Cicero's business to demon- 
strate. But when the defendant denies the fact, 
the state of the cause arises from the accusation ; 
the proof of which then lies upon the plaintiff, 
and not, as in the former case, upon the de- 
fendant. So in the cause of Roscius, the charge 
made against him is, That he killed his father. 
But he denies the fact. The grand question 
therefore to be argued is : JVhether or not he 
killed his father ? The proof of this lay upon 
the accusers. And Cicero's design in the de- 
fence of him is to show, that they had not made 
good their charge. But it sometimes happens, 
that the defendant neither absolutely denies the 
fact nor attempts to justify it; but only endea- 
vours to qualify it, by denying that it is a crime 



318 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

of that nature, or deserves that name by which it 
is expressed in the charge. We have an example 
of this proposed by Cicero : A person is accused 
of sacrilege, for taking a thing that zvas sacred, 
out of a private house. He oztms the fact, but 
denies it to be sacrilege ; since it zvas commited in 
a private house, and not in a temple. Hence this 
question arises : Whether to take a sacred thing 
out of a private house is to be deemed sacrilege, 
or only simple theft ? It lies upon the accuser to 
prove, what the other denies ; and., therefore, 
the state of the cause is here also, as well as in 
the preceding case, taken from the endictment. 

But besides the principal question, there are 
other subordinate questions, which follow upon 
it in the course of a dispute, and should be care- 
fully distinguished from it : particularly that 
which arises from the reason or argument which 
is brought in proof of the principal question. 
For the principal question itself proves no- 
thing, but is the thing to be proved, and be- 
comes at last the conclusion of the discourse. 
Thus in the cause of Milo, his argument is ; 
/ killed Clodius justly , because he assassinated 
me. Unless the Clodian party be supposed 
to deny this, they give up their cause. Hence 
therefore this subordinate question follows : 
Whether Clodius assassinated Milo? Now Cicero 
spends much time in the proof of this, as the 
hinge on which the first question, and conse- 
quently the whole cause, depended. For if this 
was once made to appear, the lawfulness of 
Milo's killing Clodius, which was the grand 
question or thing to be proved, might be infer- 
red, as an allowed consequence from it. This 
will be evident, by throwing Milo's argument, as 
used by Cicero, into the form of a syllogism : 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 319 

An assassinator is lawfully killed : 
Clodius zvas an assassinator : 
Therefore he was lawfully killed by Milo, 
whom he assassinated. 

If the minor proposition of this syllogism was 
granted, no one would deny the conclusion : for 
the Roman law allowed of self-defence. But as 
Cicero was very sensible this would not be ad- 
mitted, so he takes much pains to bring the court 
into the belief of it. Now where the argument 
brought in defence of the second question is 
contested, or the orator supposes that it may be 
so, and therefore supports that with another ar- 
gument, this occasions a third question conse- 
quent upon the former; and in like manner he 
may proceed to a fourth. But be they more or 
fewer, they are to be considered but as one chain 
of subordinate questions dependent upon the 
first. And though each of them has its particu- 
lar state, yet none of these is what rhetoricians 
call The State of the Cause, which is to be un- 
derstood only of the principal question. And if, 
as it frequently happens, the first or principal 
question is itself directly proved from more than 
one argument, this makes no other difference, 
but that all of these arguments, so far as they 
are followed by others to support them, become a 
distinct series of subordinate questions, all de- 
pendent upon the first. As when Cicero en- 
deavours to prove, that Roscius did not kill his 
father from two reasons or arguments -, — be- 
cause he had neither any cause to move him to 
such a barbarous action, nor any opportunity 
for it. 

Moreover, besides these subordinate ques- 
tions, there are also incidental ones often intro- 
duced, which have some reference to the princi- 



320 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

pal question, and contribute towards the proof 
of it, though they are not necessarily connected 
with it, or dependent upon it. And each of 
these also has its State, though different from 
that of the Cause. For every question, or point 
of controversy, must be stated, before it can be 
made the subject of disputation. And it is for 
this reason that every new argument advanced 
by an orator is called a question, because it is 
considered as a fresh matter of controversy. In 
Cicero's defence of Milo we meet with several 
of this sort of questions, occasioned by some 
aspersions which had been thrown out by the 
Clodian party to the prejudice of Milo. As, 
That he was umvorthy to see the light who 
owned he had killed a man. For Milo before 
his trial had openly confessed he killed Clodius. 
So likewise, That the senate had declared the 
killing of Clodius was an illegal action. And 
further, That Pompey, by making a new lazv 
to settle the manner of Milo's trial, had given 
his judgment against Milo. Now to each of 
these Cicero replies, before he proceeds to the 
principal question. And therefore, though the 
question, in which the state of a controversy 
consists, is said by Quintilian to arise from 
the first conflict of causes, yet we find by this 
instance of Cicero, that it is not always the 
first question in order upon which the orator 
treats. 

But it sometimes happens, that the same 
cause or controversy contains in it more than 
one state. Thus in judical causes every dis- 
tinct charge occasions a new state. All Cicero's 
orations against Verres relate to one cause, 
founded upon a law of the Romans against un- 
just exactions made by their governors of pro- 
vinces upon the inhabitants ; but as that prosecu- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 321 

tion is made up of as many charges as there are 
orations,, every charge or incitement has its dif- 
ferent state. So likewise his oration in defence 
of Ccelius has two states, in answer to a double 
charge made against him by his adversaries : 
one, for borrowing money of Clodia, in order to 
bribe certain slaves to kill a foreign embassador ; 
and the other, for an attempt afterward to poi- 
son Clodia herself Besides which there were 
also several other matters of a less heinous na- 
ture, which had been thrown upon him by his 
accusers, with a design, very likely, to render 
the two principal charges more credible ; to 
which Cicero first replies in the same manner as 
in his defence of Milo. 

Though all the examples we have hitherto 
brought to illustrate this subject have been taken 
from judicial cases, yet not only these but very 
frequently discourses of the deliberative kind, 
and sometimes those of the demonstrative, are 
managed in a controversial way. And all con- 
troversies have their state. And therefore, Quin- 
tilian very justly observes, that states belong both 
to general and particular questions, and to all 
sorts of causes demonstrative, deliberative, and 
judicial. In Cicero's oration for the Manilian 
law, this is the main point in dispute between 
him and those who opposed that law: Whether 
Pompey was the fittest person to be intrusted 
with the management of the war against Mith- 
ridates ; This is a subject of the deliberative 
kind. And of the same nature was that debate 
in the senate concerning the demolition of Car- 
thage. For the matter in dispute between Cato, 
who argued for it, and those who were of the con- 
trary opinion, seems to have been this : Whether 
it was for the interest of the Romans to demolish 
Carthage? 

v 



322 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

As to the number of these states, both Cicero 
and Quintilian reduce them to three. I shall 
recite Quintilian's reason which he gives for 
this opinion. We must, says he, agree xvith 
those whose authority Cicero follows, who tell 
us that three things may be inquired into in 
all disputes ; whether a thing is, xvhat it is, and 
how it is. And this is the method which nature 
prescribes. For in the first place it is neces- 
sary the thing should exist, about xvhich the dis- 
pute is ; because no judgment can be made either 
of its nature or quality till its existence be mani- 
fest ; xvhich is therefore the first question. But 
though it be manifest that a thing is, it does not 
presently appear what it is; and xvhen this is 
known, the quality yet remains ; and after these 
three are settled, no further inquiry is neces- 
sary. Thus far Quintilian. Now the first of 
these three states is called the conjectural state ; 
as if it be inquired. Whether one person killed 
another. This always follows upon the denial of 
a fact by one of the parties, as was the case of 
Roscius. And it receives its name from this, 
that the judge is left, as it were, to conjecture 
whether the fact was really committed or not, 
from the evidence produced on the other side. 
The second is called the definitive state, when 
the fact is not denied, but the dispute turns 
upon the nature of it, and what name is proper 
to gi\e it : as in that example of Cioero ; Whe- 
ther to take a sacred thing out of a private 
house be theft or sacrilege ? For in this case 
it is necessary to settle the distinct notion of 
those two crimes, and show their difference. 
The third is called the state of quality, when the 
contending parties are agreed both as to the fact, 
and the nature of it; but the dispute is, Whe- 
ther it be just or unjust, profitable or unprofit* 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 323 

able, and the like : as in the cause of Milo. Aris- 
totle, and from him Vossius, add a fourth state, 
namely of quantity, as : Whether an injury he so 
great as it is said to be. But Quintilian thinks 
this may be referred to some or other of the pre- 
ceding states ; since it depends upon the circum- 
stances of the fact, as the intention, time, place, 
or the like. 

From what has been said upon this subject, 
the use of it may in a good measure appear. For 
whoever engages in a controversy ought in the 
first place to consider with himself the main 
question in dispute, to fix it well in his mind, 
and keep it constantly in his view ; without 
which he will be very liable to ramble from the 
point, and bewilder both himself and his hearers. 
And it is no less the business of the hearers prin- 
cipally to attend to this; by which means they 
will be helped to distinguish and separate from 
the principal question what is only incidental, 
and to observe how far the principal question is 
affected by it ; to perceive what is offered in 
proof, and what is only brought in for decora- 
tion ; not to be misled by digressions, but to dis- 
cern when the speaker goes off from his subject, 
and when he returns to it again ; and in a word, 
to accompany him through the whole discourse, 
and carry with them the principal chain of rea- 
soning upon which the cause depends, so as to 
judge upon the whole whether he has made out 
his point, and the conclusion follows from the 
premises. The necessity of this is generally the 
greater in proportion to the length of a discourse, 
however exact and artful the composition may 
be. They, who have read Cicero's orations with 
care, cannot but know, that although they 
are formed in the most beautiful manner, and 

y 2 



SU RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

wrought up with the greatest skill, yet the mat- 
ter of them is often so copious, the arguments 
so numerous, the incidents either to conciliate 
or move his audience so frequent,, and the di- 
gressions so agreeable, that without the closest 
attention it is many times no easy matter to keep 
his main design in view. A constant and fixed 
regard therefore to the state of the cause and 
principal point in dispute is highly necessary to 
this end. But though rhetoricians treat of these 
states only as they relate to controversies, and be- 
come the subject matter of dispute between dif- 
fering parties, yet every discourse has one or 
more principal heads, which the speaker chiefly 
proposes to prove or illustrate. And therefore 
what has been said upon this subject may like- 
wise be considered as proper to be attended to in 
all discourses. 

I have only to add, that hitherto I have treated 
of the nature and use of the three states so far 
as relates to them in general; a more particular 
account of them, with the arguments which are 
properly suited to each state, will be next con- 
sidered. 

Of Arguments suited to Demonstrative Dis- 
courses. 

The general method of deducing arguments 
from Common Places has been already explain- 
ed. But more fully to show the use of this sub- 
ject, and the assistance it affords the orator, it 
may not be improper separately to consider the 
particular heads which are more especially suited 
to the several kinds of discourses. These are 
subordinate to the former, and spring from them 
like branches from the same stock, or rivulets 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 325 

from a common fountain : as will evidently ap- 
pear when we come to explain them. 

This is what I propose to enter upon at pre- 
sent, and shall begin with those which relate to 
demonstrative discourses. And as these consist 
either in praise or dispraise, agreeably to the na- 
ture of all contraries, one of them will serve to 
illustrate the other. Thus he who knows what 
arguments are proper to prove the excellency of 
virtue, and commend it to our esteem, cannot 
be much at a loss for such as will show the 
odious nature of vice, and expose it to every 
one's abhorrence ; since they are all taken from 
the same heads, and directly the reverse of each 
other. In treating therefore upon the topics 
suited to this kind of discourses, I need only 
mention those which are requisite for praise ; 
whence such as are proper for dispraise will 
easily enough be discovered. 

Now we praise either persons or things : un- 
der which division all beings with their proper- 
ties and circumstances may be comprehended, 
so as to take in whatever belongs either to na- 
ture or art. But in each part of the division I 
shall confine my discourse principally to those 
subjects relating to social life, in which oratory 
is more usually conversant. And under the 
former head, which respects persons or intelli- 
gent beings, I shall only speak of men. The 
ancient sophists among the Greeks in their lau- 
datory speeches seem rather to have studied how 
to display their own eloquence, than to make 
them serve any valuable purposes in life : for 
their characters were so heightened, like poeti- 
cal images, as suited them more to excite won- 
der and surprise than to become the proper 
subjects of imitation. And for this reason Aris- 
totle excludes them from the number of civil 



396 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

d : scourses, or such as relate to the affairs of so- 
ciety. Though if we consider their nature 
rather than the abuse of them, they appear to be 
very proper subjects for an orator, and to come 
within the main design of his province, which 
is persuasion. For to what purpose can eloquence 
be better employed than to celebrate virtuous per- 
sons or actions, in such a manner as to excite 
mankind to their imitation, which is the proper 
end of such discourses. And indeed, the pane- 
gyrics of the Greeks, which were pronounced in 
the general assemblies of their several states, 
seem to have been designed to recommend virtue 
by so public a testimony, as appears by that of 
Isocrates in the praise of the Athenians. For as 
to the invectives of Demosthenes against king 
Philip, they are rather of the deliberative kind, 
and so do not come under our present considera- 
tion, since the orator's principal view in those 
discourses is to animate the Athenians in a de- 
fence of their liberties, by a vigorous prosecu- 
tion of the war against king Philip ; to which 
end he likewise proposes the fittest methods for 
carrying it on with success. And most of 
Cicero's invectives against Mark Antony may 
be referred to the same kind of discourses. Rut 
as it is evident, from common observation, that 
men are more influenced by examples than pre- 
cepts, so the celebrating virtue, and exposing 
vice, from particular instances in human life, as 
patterns to others in what they ought to pursue, 
and what to avoid, has by wise men been gene- 
rally esteemed very serviceable to mankind. For 
which reason likewise the transmitting to poste- 
rity the lives of great and eminent men has met 
with good acceptance, as a useful and laudable 
design. And therefore the Romans who were 
sensible that such discourses were not only suited 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 327 

for entertainment, but might likewise be made 
very useful to the public, did not confine 
them to the schools of rhetoricians and the ex- 
ercises of young persons : for it was their cus- 
tom, as Quintilian tells us, to have them pro- 
nounced in public assemblies, even by magis- 
trates, and sometimes by an order from the 
senate. So we read, that a funeral oration was 
spoken in honour of Junius Brutus by Publicola, 
his colleague in the consulship. And a like dis- 
course, with a statue and public funeral, was 
decreed by the senate to the honour of M. Ju- 
venilis. Though afterwards indeed we generally 
find this office performed by some relation. In 
compliance with which custom, as Suetonius re- 
lates, Augustus, when but twelve years of age, 
pronounced a funeral discourse in praise of his 
grandmother Julia. And Tiberius, when but 
nine years old, paid the like honour to his de- 
ceased father, as the same historian informs us. 
And Cicero's invective against Piso, with his se- 
cond against Mark Antony, may be referred to 
demonstrative discourses, as they respect things 
that were past, and so could not then be subjects 
for consultation. For all praise or dispraise must 
either regard what is past or present. And, ge- 
nerally speaking, persons are most affected by 
present things. Indeed the encomiums of ancient 
heroes, and their famous actions, are very enter- 
taining, and afford an agreeable pleasure in the 
recital ; but such examples of virtue, as are still 
in being, or at least yet fresh in memory, have 
the greiUest influence for imitation. 

But in praising or dispraising persons, rheto- 
ricians prescribe two methods. One is, to fol- 
low the order in which every thing happened 
that is mentioned in the discourse; the other is, 
to reduce what is said under certain general 



S28 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

heads, without a strict regard to the order of 
time. 

In pursuing the former method, the discourse 
may be very conveniently divided into three 
periods. The first of which will contain what 
preceded the person's birth; the second, the whole 
course of his life ; and the third, what followed 
upon his death. 

Under the first of these may be comprehended 
what is proper to be said concerning his country 
and family. And, therefore, if these were ho- 
nourable, it may be said to his advantage, that 
he no ways disgraced them, but acted suitably to 
such a descent. But if they were not so, they 
may be either wholly omitted, or it may be said, 
that instead of deriving thence any advantage to 
his character, he has conferred a lasting honour 
upon them : and that it is not of so much mo- 
ment where or from whom a person derives his 
birth, as how he lives. 

In the second period, which is that of his life, 
the qualities both of his mind and body, with his 
circumstances in the world, may be separately 
considered. Though as Quintilian rightly ob- 
serves : All external advantages are not praised 
for themselves, but according to the use that is 
made ofthenu For riches, andpoxver, and interest, 
as they have great influence and may be applied 
either to good or bad purposes, are a proof of the 
temper of our minds, and therefore xce are either 
made better or xvorse by them. But these things are 
a just ground for commendation when they are the 
reward of virtue or industry. Bodily endowments 
are, health, strength, beauty, activity, and the 
like; which are more or less commendable, ac- 
cording as they are employed. And where these, 
or any of them are wanting, it may be shown that 
they are abundantly compensated by the more valua- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 329 

ble endowments of the mind. Nay, sometimes 
a defect in these may give an advantageous turn 
to a person's character, for any virtue appears 
greater in proportion to the disadvantages the 
person laboured under in exerting it. Rut the 
chief topics of praise are taken from the virtues 
and qualifications of the mind. And here the 
orator may consider the disposition, education, 
learning, and several virtues which shone through 
the whole course of the person's life : in doing 
which, the preference should always be given to 
virtue above knowledge, or any other accomplish- 
ment. And in actions, those are most consider- 
able, and will be heard with greatest approbation, 
which a person either did alone, or first, or where- 
in he had fewest associates ; as likewise those 
which exceeded expectation, or were done for 
the advantage of others, rather than his own. 
And further, as the last scene of a man's life ge- 
nerally commands the greatest regard, if any 
thing remarkable at that time was either said or 
done, it ought particularly to be mentioned. Nor 
should the manner of his death or cause of it, if 
accompanied with any commendable circum- 
stances, be omitted; as if he died in the service 
of his country, or in the pursuit of any other 
laudable design. 

The third and last period relates to what fol- 
lowed after the death of the person. And here 
the public loss and public honours conferred 
upon the deceased are proper to be mentioned. 
Sepulchres, statues, and other monuments to per- 
petuate the memory of the dead at the expense 
of the public, were in common use both among 
the Greeks and Romans. But in the earliest 
times, as these honours were more rare, so 
they were less costly : for as in one age it was 
thought a sufficient reward for him who died in 



330 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the defence of his country to have his name cut 
in a marble inscription with the cause of his 
death, so in others it was very common to see 
the statues of gladiators and persons of the 
meanest rank erected in public places. And 
therefore, a judgment is to be formed of these 
things, from the time, custom, and circumstances 
of different nations; since the frequency of 
them renders them less honourable, and takes 
off from their evidence as the rewards of vir- 
tue. But, as Quintilian says : Children are an 
honour to their parents, cities to their founders, 
laws to those who compiled them, arts to their 
inventors, and useful customs to the authors of 
them. 

And this may suffice for the method of prais- 
ing persons when we propose to follow the or- 
der of time, as Isocrates has done in his funeral 
oration upon Evagoras, king of Salamis, and 
Pliny in his panegyric upon the emperor Trajan. 
But as this method is very plain and obvious, so 
it requires the more agreeable dress to render it 
delightful; lest otherwise it seem rather like a 
history than an oration. For which reason we 
find that epic poets, as Homer, Virgil, and 
others begin in the middle of their story, and af- 
terwards take a proper occasion to introduce 
what preceded to diversify the subject, and give 
the greater pleasure and entertainment to their 
readers. 

The other method above hinted was to re- 
duce the discourse to certain general heads, 
without regarding the order of time. As if any 
one in praising the Elder Cato should propose 
to do it by showing that he was a most prudent 
senator, an excellent orator, and most valiant 
general; all which commendations are given 
him by Pliny. In like manner the character of 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 331 

a good general ma}' be comprised under four 
heads, — skill in military affairs, courage, autho- 
rity, and success ; from all which Cicero com- 
mends Pompey. And agreeably to this method 
Suetonius has written the lives of the first twelve 
Caesars. 

But in praising of persons, care should always 
be taken to say nothing that may seem ficti- 
tious or out of character, which may call the 
orator's judgment or integrity in question. It 
was not without cause therefore, that Lysippus 
the statuary, as Plutarch tells us, blamed Apelles 
for painting Alexander the Great with thunder 
in his hand; which could never suit his charac- 
ter as a man, however he might boast of his di- 
vine descent; for which reason Lysippus him- 
self made an image of him holding a spear, as 
the sign of a warrior. Light and trivial things 
in commendations are likewise to be avoided, 
and nothing mentioned but what may carry in 
it the idea of something truly valuable, and which 
the hearers may be supposed to wish for, and is 
proper to excite their emulation. These are the 
principal heads of praise with relation to men. 
In dispraise, as was hinted before, the heads con- 
trary to these are requisite ; which being suffici- 
ently clear from what has been said, need not 
particularly be insisted on. 

I proceed, therefore, to the other part of the 
division, which respects things as distinguished 
from pcrso?is. By which we are to understand 
all beings inferior to man, whether animate or 
inanimate; as likewise the habits and disposi- 
tions of men either good or bad, when consider- 
ed separately and apart from their subjects, as arts 
and sciences, virtues and vices, with whatever 
else may be a proper subject for praise or dis- 
praise. Some writers indeed have, for their 



332 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

own amusement and the diversion of others, dis- 
played their eloquence in a jocose manner upon 
subjects of this kind. So Lucian has written in 
praise of a fly, and Sinesius an elegant enco- 
mium upon baldness. Others, on the contrary, 
have done the like in a satirical way. Such is 
Seneca's Apotheosis or consecration of the em- 
peror Claudius; and the Mysopogon or Beard- 
hater, written by Julian the emperor. Not to 
mention several modern authors who have imi- 
tated them in such ludicrous compositions. But 
as to these things, and all of the like nature, the 
observation of Antony in Cicero seems very 
just : That it is not necessary to reduce every sub- 
ject we discourse upon to rules of art. For many 
are so trivial as not to deserve it : and others so 
plain and evident of themselves as not to re- 
quire it. But since it frequently comes in the 
way both of orators and historians to describe 
countries , cities , and facts, I shall briefly mention 
the principal heads of invention proper to illus- 
trate each of these. 

Countries then may be celebrated from the 
pleasantness of their situation, the clemency and 
wholesomeness of the air, and goodness of the 
soil, to which last may be referred the springs, 
rivers, woods, plains, mountains, and minerals. 
And to all these may be added their extent, 
cities, the number and antiquity of the inhabi- 
tants, their policy, laws, customs, wealth, cha- 
racter for cultivating the arts both of peace and 
war, their princes, and other eminent men they 
have produced. Thus Pacatus has given us a 
very elegant description of Spain, in his pane- 
gyric upon the emperor Tlieodosius, who was born 
there. 

Cities are praised from much the same topics 
as countries. And here, whatever contributes 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 333 

cither to their defence or ornament ought parti- 
cularly to be mentioned ; as the strength of the 
walls and fortifications, the beauty and splendour 
of their buildings, whether sacred or civil* public 
or private. We have in Herodotus a very fine 
description of Babylon, which was . once the 
strongest, largest, and most regular city in the 
world. And Cicero has accurately described the 
city Syracuse, in the island Sicily, in one of his 
orations against Verres. 

But facts come much oftener under the cog- 
nizance of an orator: and these receive their com- 
mendation from their honour, justice, or advan- 
tage. But in describing them all the circum- 
stances should be related in their proper order, 
and that in the most lively and affecting manner, 
suited to their different nature. Livy has repre- 
sented the demolition of Alba by the Roman 
army which was sent thither to destroy it, through 
the whole course of that melancholy scene, in a 
style so moving and pathetic, that one can hard- 
ly forbear condoling with the inhabitants upon 
reading his account. 

But in discourses of this kind, whether of 
praise or dispraise, the orator should (as he 
ought indeed upon all occasions) well consi- 
der where, and to whom, he speaks: for wise men 
often think very differently both of persons and 
things from the common people. And we find 
that learned and judicious men are frequently 
divided in their sentiments from the several ways 
of thinking to which they have been accustom- 
ed. Besides, different opinions prevail and gain 
the ascendant at different times. While the Ro- 
mans continued a free nation, love of their coun- 
try, liberty, and a public spirit, were principles 
in the highest esteem among them. And there- 
fore when Cato killed himself that he might not 



334 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

fall into the hands of Caesar, and survive the 
liberty of his country, it was thought an in- 
stance of the greatest heroic virtue ; but after- 
wards, when they had been accustomed to an 
arbitrary government, and the spirit of liberty 
was now lost, the poet Martial could venture to 
say, 

Death to avoid 'tis madness sure to die. 

A prudent orator therefore will be cautious of 
opposing any settled and prevailing notions of 
those whom he addresses; unless it be necessary, 
and then he will do it in the softest and most 
gentle manner. 

Now if we look back and consider the several 
heads of praise enumerated under each of the sub- 
jects above mentioned, we shall find they are 
taken from their nature, properties, circumstances, 
or some other general topic, as was intimated in 
the beginning of this discourse. 

Of Arguments suited to deliberative Discourses- 

This kind of discourses must certainly have 
been very ancient, since doubtless from the first 
beginning of men's conversing together they de- 
liberated upon their common interest, and offered 
their advice to each other. 

All deliberation respects something future, 
for it is in vain to consult about what is already 
past. The subject matter of it are either things 
public or private, sacred or civil : indeed all 
the valuable concerns of mankind, both present 
and future, come under its regard ; and the end 
proposed by this kind of discourses is chiefly 
profit or interest. But since nothing is truly 
profitable but what is in some respect good ; 
and every thing which is good in itself may not 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 335 

in all circumstances be for our advantage ; pro- 
perly speaking, what is both good and profitable, 
or beneficial good, is the end here designed. 
And, therefore, as it sometimes happens that 
what appears profitable may seem to interfere 
with that which is strictly just and honour- 
able, in such cases it is certainly mos< advisable 
to determine on the safer side of honour and 
justice, notwithstanding some plausible things 
may be offered to the contrary. But where 
the dispute lies apparently between what is 
truly honest, and some external advantage pro- 
posed in opposition to it, all good men cannot but 
agree in favour of honesty. Now when it 
proves to be a matter of debate whether a thing 
upon the whole be really beneficial or not, 
as here arise two parts, advice and dissuasion, 
they will each require proper heads of argu- 
ment : but as they are contrary to each other, he 
who is acquainted with one cannot well be ig- 
norant of the other. For which reason, as in my 
last discourse, I recited only the topics suited for 
praise, leaving those for dispraise to be collected 
from them ; so here, likewise, I shall chiefly 
mention those proper for advice, whence 
such as are suited to dissuade will easily be per- 
ceived. Now the principal heads of this kind 
arc these following, which are taken from the 
nature and properties of the thing itself under 
consideration. 

And first, pleasure often affords a very cogent 
argument in discourses of this nature. Every 
one knows what an influence this has upon the 
generality of mankind. Though, as Quintiliau 
remarks, pleasure ought not of itself to be pro- 
posed as a fit motive for action in serious dis- 
courses, but when it is designed to recommend 
something useful, which is the case here. So, 



336 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

would any one advise another to the pursuit of 
polite literature, Cicero has furnished him with 
a very strong inducement to it from the plea- 
sure which attends that study when he says : 
If pleasure only was proposed by these studies, you 
would think them an entertainment becoming a man 
of sense and a gentleman. For other pursuits nei- 
ther agree with all times, all ages, nor all places ; 
but these studies improve youth, delight old age, 
adorn prosperity, afford a refuge and comfort in 
adversity, divert us at home, are no hindrance a- 
broad, sleep, travel, and retire with us in the country. 

A second head is profit or advantage, which 
has no less influence upon many persons than the 
former, and, when it respects things truly valu- 
able, is a very just and laudable motive. Thus 
Cicero, when he sends his Books of Offices to his 
son, which he wrote in Latin for his use, advises 
him to make the best advantage both of his tu- 
tor's instructions and the conversation at Athens, 
where he then was ; but withal to peruse his phi- 
losophical treatises, which would be doubly use- 
ful to him, not only upon account of the subjects 
but likewise of the language, as they would en- 
able him to express himself upon those arguments 
in Latin, which before had only been treated of 
in Greek; 

The last head of this kind which I shall men- 
tion is honour. And no argument will sooner 
prevail with generous minds, or inspire them 
with greater ardour. Virgil has very beautifully 
described Hector's ghost appearing to /Eneas, the 
night Troy was taken, and advising him to de- 
part, from this motive of honour. 

O goddess-born, escape by timely flight 
The flames and horrours of this fatal night. 
The foes already have possess'd the wall, 
Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 337 



Enough is paid to Priam's royal name ; 
More than enough to duty and to fame. 
If by a mortal hand my father's throne 
Could be defended, 'twas by mine alone. 

The argument here made use of to persuade /Eneas 
to leave Troy immediately is, that he had already 
done all that could be expected from him, either 
as a good subject or brave soldier, both for his 
king and country, which were sufficient to secure 
his honour; and now there was nothing more to 
be expected from him when the city was falling 
and impossible to be saved ; which could it have 
been preserved by human power, he himself had 
done it. 

But although a thing considered in itself appear 
beneficial if it could be attained, yet the expedi- 
ency of undertaking it may still be questionable; 
10 which case the following heads, taken from 
the circumstances which attend it, will afford 
proper arguments to engage in it. 

And first the possibility of succeeding may 
sometimes be argued as one motive to this end. 
So Hannibal endeavoured to convince king An- 
tiochus, that it was possible for him to conquer 
the Romans ifjie made Italy the seat of war : by 
observing to him, not only that the Gauls had 
formerly destroyed their city, but that he had 
himself defeated them in every battle he fought 
with them in that country. 

But the bare possibility of a thing is seldom a 
sufficient motive to undertake it, unless on very 
urgent occasions. And therefore an argument 
founded upon probability will be much more 
likely to prevail. For, in many affairs of human 
life, men are determined either to prosecute 
them or not, as the prospect of success appears 
more or less probable. Hence Cicero, after the 

3 



338 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

fatal battle at Pharsalia, dissuades those of Pom- 
pey's party, with whom he was engaged, from 
continuing the war any longer against Caesar ; 
because it was highly improbable after such a de- 
feat, by which their main strength was broken, 
that they should be able to stand their ground, 
or meet with better success than they had be- 
fore. 

But further : since probability is not a motive 
strong enough with many persons to engage in 
the prosecution of a thing which is attended with 
considerable difficulties, it is often necessary to 
represent the facility of doing it as a further rea- 
son to induce them to it. And therefore Cicero 
makes use of this argument to encourage the Ro- 
man citizens in opposing Mark Antony, (who 
upon the death of Caesar had assumed an arbitra- 
ry power) by representing to them that his cir- 
cumstances were then desperate, and that he 
might easily be vanquished. 

Again : if the thing advised to can be shown to be 
in any respect necessary, this will render the mo- 
tive still much stronger for undertaking it. And 
therefore Cicero joins this argument with the 
former, to prevail with the Roman citizens to op- 
pose Antony, by telling them that the considera- 
tion before them was not in zvhat circumstances 
they should live, but whether they should live 
at ally or die xvith ignominy and disgrace. This 
way of reasoning will sometimes prevail when all 
others prove ineffectual. For some persons are 
not to be moved till things are brought to an 
extremity, and they find themselves reduced to 
the utmost danger. 

To these heads may be added the considera- 
tion of the event, which in some cases carries 
great weight with it : — as when we advise to 
the doing of a thing from this motive, that whe- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 339 

ther it succeed or not it will yet be of service to 
undertake it. So, after the great victory gained 
by Themistocles over the Persian fleet at the 
Straits of Salamis, Mardonius advised Xerxes to 
return into Asia himself, lest the report of his de- 
feat should occasion an insurrection in his ab- 
sence ; but to leave behind him an army of three 
hundred thousand men under his command ; with 
which if he should conquer Greece, the chief 
glory of the conquest would redound to Xerxes; 
but, if the design miscarried, the disgrace would 
fall upon his generals. 

These are the principal heads which furnish 
the orator with proper arguments in giving ad- 
vice. Cicero in his oration for the Manilian law, 
where he endeavours to persuade the Roman 
people to choose Pompey for their general in the 
Mithridatic war, reasons from three of these to- 
pics, into which he divides his whole discourse; 
namely, the necessity of the war, the greatness 
of it, the choice of a proper general. Under the 
first of these he shows that the war was neces- 
sary from four considerations ; the honour of the 
Roman state, the safety of their allies, their own 
revenues, and the fortunes of many of their fel- 
low citizens, which were all highly concerned in 
it, and called upon them to put a stop to the 
growing power of king Mithridates, by which 
they were all greatly endangered. So that this 
argument is taken from the head of necessity. 
The second, in which he treats of the greatness 
of the war, is founded upon the topic of possi- 
bility. For though he shows the power of Mi- 
thridates to be very great, yet not so formidable 
but that he might be subdued ; as was evident 
from the many advantages Lucullus had gained 
over him and his associates. In the third head 
he endeavours to prevail with them to entrust 

z 2 



340 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the management of the war in the hands of 
Pompey, whom he describes as a consummate ge- 
neral for his skill in military affairs., courage, au- 
thority, and success ; in all which qualities he re- 
presents him as superior to any other of their ge- 
nerals, whom they could at that time make choice 
of. The design of all which was to persuade 
them they might have very good reason to hope 
for success, and a happy event of the war, under 
his conduct. So that the whole force of his 
reasoning under this head is drawn from p?*oba- 
bility. These are the three general topics which 
make up that fine discourse; each of which 
is indeed supported by divers other arguments 
and considerations, which will be obvious in 
perusing the oration itself, and therefore need 
not be here enumerated. On the contrary, in 
another oration he endeavours to dissuade the se- 
nate from consenting to a peace with Mark An- 
tony, because it was base, dangerous, and im- 
practicable. 

But no small skill and address are required in 
giving advice. For, since the tempers and sen- 
timents of mankind, as well as their circum- 
stances, are very different and various, it is often 
necessary to accommodate the discourse to their 
inclinations and opinions of things : and there- 
fore the weightiest arguments are not always the 
most proper and the fittest to be used on all oc- 
casions. Cicero, who was an admirable master 
of this art, and knew perfectly well how to suit 
what he said to the taste and relish of his hearers, 
in treating upon this subject, distinguishes man- 
kind into two sorts — the ignorant and unpolished, 
who always profer profit to honour ; and such 
as are more civilized and polite, who prefer ho- 
nour and reputation to all other things. Where- 
fore they are to be moved by these different 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 341 

views : praise, glory, and virtue, influence the 
one; while the other is only to be engaged by 
a prospect of gain and pleasure. Besides, it is 
plain, that the generality of mankind are much 
more inclined to avoid evils than to pursue what 
is good, and to keep clear of scandal and dis- 
grace than to practise what is truly generous 
and noble. Persons likewise of a different age 
act from different principles ; young men for 
the most part view things in another light from 
those who are older and have had more expe- 
rience, and consequently are not to be influenced 
from the same motives. Every nation also has 
its particular customs, manners, and polity, 
which give a different turn to the genius of the 
inhabitants. The speech of Alexander, made to 
his soldiers before he engaged the Persians, as 
we have it in Curtius, is finely wrought up in 
this respect. For, as his army was composed of 
different nations, the parts of his discourse are 
admirably well suited to their several views in 
prosecuting the war. He reminds his country- 
men, the Macedonians, of their former victories 
in Europe ; and tells them, that Persia is not to 
be the boundary of their conquests, but they are 
to extend them further than either Hercules or 
Bacchus had done: that Bactra and the Indies 
would be their*, and that what they saw was 
but a small part of what they were to possess: 
that neither the rocks of Illyrium, nor the moun- 
tains of Thrace, but the spoils of the whole East 
were now before them : that the conquest would 
be so easy they would scarce have occasion to 
draw their swords, but they might push the 
enemy with their bucklers. Then he reminds 
them of their subduing the Athenians under his 
father Philip, and the late conquest of Boeotia, 
the victory at the river Granicus, and the many 



342 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

cities and countries now behind them and under 
their subjection. When he addresses the Greeks, 
he tells them, they are now going* to engage 
with those that had been the enemies of their 
country, first by the insolence of Darius, and 
afterwards of Xerxes, who would have deprived 
them even of the necessaries of life, who destroyed 
their temples, demolished their towns, and 
violated both their sacred and civil rights. And 
then directing his discourse to the lllyrians and 
Thracians, who were accustomed to live by 
plunder, he encouraged them with the prospect 
of booty from the rich armour and furniture of 
the Persians, which they might be masters of 
with the greatest ease; and tells them, they 
would now exchange their barren mountains and 
snowy hills for the fertile country and fields of 
Persia. 



Of Arguments suited to Judicial Discourses. 

In judicial controversies there are two parties, 
the plaintiff or prosecutor, and the defendant, 
or person charged. The subject of them is al- 
ways something past. And the end proposed 
by them Cicero calls equity, or fig fa and equity ; 
the former of which arises from the laws of the 
country, and the latter from reason and the na- 
ture of things. For at Rome the praetors had a 
court of equity, and were empowered, in many 
cases relating to property, to relax the rigour of 
the written laws. But as this subject is very co- 
pious, and causes may arise from a great variety 
of things, writers have reduced them to three 
heads, which they call states, to some one of 
which all judicial proceedings may be referred; 
namely, whether a thing is, what it is, or how it is. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 343 

By the state of a cause therefore is meant the 
principal question in dispute, upon which the 
whole affair depends ; which, if it stops in the 
first inquiry, and the defendant denies the fact, 
the state is called conjectural ; but if the fact be 
acknowledged, and yet denied to be what the 
adversary calls it, it is termed definitive ; but if 
there is no dispute either about the fact or its 
name, but only the justice of it, it is called the 
state of quality : as was shown more largely be- 
fore. But I then considered these states only in 
a general view, and deferred the particular heads 
of argument proper for each of them to t\\\sjudi- 
c/V//kind of discourses ; where they most frequent- 
ly occur, and from which examples may easily be 
accommodated to other subjects. And this is 
what I am now particularly to treat of. 

All judicial causes are either private or public. 
They are called private, which relate to the right 
of particular persons ; and they are likewise called 
civil causes, as they are conversant about matters 
of property. Public causes are those which re- 
late to public justice and the government of the 
state ; which are also called criminal, because by 
them crimes are prosecuted, whether capital or 
those of a less heinous nature. I shall take the 
heads of the arguments only from this latter 
kind, because they are more copious and easy to 
be illustrated by examples ; from which such as 
agree to the former, namely, civil causes, will suf- 
ficiently appear. 

And I shall begin with the conjectural state, 
which comes first in the order of inquiry. When 
therefore the accused person denies the fact, 
there are three things which the prosecutor has 
to consider : Whether he would have done it, 
whether he could, and whether he did it. And 
hence arise three topics ; from the Will, the 



344 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Power, and the Signs, or circumstances which 
attended the action. The affections of the mind 
discover the Will; as, passion, an old grudge, a 
desire of revenge, a resentment of an injury, and 
the like. Therefore Cicero argues from Clo- 
dius's hatred of Milo, that he designed his death, 
and thence infers that he was the aggressor in 
the combat between them, wherein Clodius was 
killed. This is what he principally endeavours 
to prove, and comes properly under this state: 
for Milo owned that he killed him, but alleged 
that he did it in his own defence. So that in re- 
gard to this point, which of them assaulted the 
other, the charge was mutual. The prospect 
of advantage may also be alleged to the same 
purpose. Hence it is said of L. Cassius, that 
whenever he sat as judge in a case of murder, 
he used to advise and move the court to ex- 
amine to whom the advantage arose from the 
death of the deceased. And Cicero puts this 
to Antony concerning the death of Caesar. If 
any one, says he, should bring you upon trial, and 
use that saying of Cassius, cui bono ? ivho got by 
it ? look to it, I beseech you, that you are not con- 
founded. To these arguments may be added 
hope of impunity, taken either from the circum- 
stances of the accused person, or of him, who 
suffered the injury. For persons who have the 
advantage of interest, friends, power or money, 
are apt to think they may easily escape ; as like- 
wise such who have formerly committed other 
crimes with impunity. Thus Cicero represents 
Clodius as hardened in vice, and above all the 
restraint of laws, from having so often escaped 
punishment upon committing the highest crimes. 
On the contrary, such a confidence is some- 
times raised from the condition of the injured 
party, if he is indigent, obscure, timorous, or 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 345 

destitute of friends ; much more if he has an ill 
reputation, or is loaded with popular hatred and 
resentment. It was this presumption of the ob- 
scurity of Roscius, who lived in the country, 
and of his want of interest at Rome, which en- 
couraged his accusers to charge him with killing 
his father, as Cicero shows in his defence of 
him. Lastly, the temper of a person, his views, 
and manner of life, are considerations of great 
moment in this matter. For persons of bad mo- 
rals, and such who are addicted to vice, are 
easily thought capable of committing any wick- 
edness. Hence Sallust argues from the evil dis- 
position and vicious life of Catiline, that he 
affected to raise himself upon the ruins of his 
country. The second head is the power of doing 
a thing; and there are three things which relate 
to this, the place, the time, and opportunity. As, 
if a crime is said to have been committed in a 
private place where no other person was pre- 
sent : or in the night ; or when the injured per- 
son was unable to provide for his defence. Un- 
der this head may likewise be brought in the 
circumstances of the persons ; as if the accused 
person was stronger, and so able to overpower 
the other ; or more active, and so could easily 
make his escape. Cicero makes great use of this 
topic in the case of Milo, and shows that Clo- 
dius had all the advantages of place, time, and 
opportunity i to execute his design of killing him. 
The third head are the signs, and circumstances 
which either preceded, accompanied, or follow- 
ed the commission of the fact. So threats, or the 
accused person being seen at or near the place 
before the fact was committed, are circum- 
stances that may probably precede murder; fight- 
ing, crying out, bloodshed, are such as accom- 
pany it; paleness, trembling, inconsistent an- 



346 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

swers, hesitation or faltering of speech, some- 
thing found upon the person accused which be- 
longed to the deceased, are such as follow. Thus 
Cicero proves that Clodius had threatened the 
death of Milo, and given out that he should not 
live above three days at the furthest. These ar- 
guments, taken from conjectures, are called pre- 
sumptions, which, though they do not directly 
prove that the accused person committed the fact 
with which he is charged, yet when being laid 
together they appeared very strong, sentence by 
the Roman law might sometimes be given upon 
them to convict him. 

These are the topics from which the prosecu- 
tor takes his arguments. Now the business of 
the defendant is to invalidate these. Therefore 
such as are brought from the will, he either en- 
deavours to show are not true, or so weak as to 
merit very little regard. And he refutes those 
taken from the power, by proving that he wanted 
either opportunity or ability : as, if he can show 
that neither the place nor time, insisted on, was 
at all proper, or that he was then in another 
place. In like manner he will endeavour to 
confute the circumstances, if they cannot directly 
be denied, by showing that they are not such as 
do necessarily accompany the fact, but might 
have proceeded from other causes, though no- 
thing of what is alleged had been committed ; 
and it will be of great service to assign some 
other probable cause. But sometimes the defen- 
dant does not only deny that he did the fact, but 
charges it upon another. Thus Cicero, in his 
oration for Roscius, not only defends him from 
each of these three heads, but likewise charges 
the fact upon his accusers. 

I come now to the definitive state, which is 
principally concerned in defining and fixing the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 347 

name proper to the fact. Though orators 
seldom make use of exact definitions, but com- 
monly choose larger descriptions, taken from 
various properties of the subject or thing de- 
scribed. 

The heads of argument in this state are much 
the same to both parties. For each of them de- 
fines the fact his own way, and endeavours to 
refute the other's definition. We may illustrate 
this by an example from Quintilian : A person 
is accused of sacrilege, for stealing money out of 
a temple, which belonged to a private person. The 
fact is owned, but the question is, JVhether it be 
properly sacrilege ? The prosecutor calls it so, 
because it was taken out of a temple. But since 
the money belonged to a private person, the de- 
fendant denies it to be sacrilege, and says it is 
only simple theft. Now the reason why the de- 
fendant uses this plea, and insists upon the dis- 
tinction, is, because by the Roman law the pe- 
nalty of the theft was only four times the value 
of what was stolen ; whereas sacrilege was pu- 
nished with death. The prosecutor then forms 
his definition agreeably to his charge, and says-: 
To steal any thing out of a sacred place is sacri- 
lege. But the defendant excepts against this de- 
finition as defective ; and urges that it does not 
amount to sacrilege unless the thing stolen was 
likewise sacred. And this case might once per- 
haps have been a matter of controversy, since 
we find it expressly determined in the Pandects, 
that, An action of sacrilege should not lie, but only 
of theft, against any one who should steal the 
goods of private persons deposited in a temple. 

The second thing is the proof brought by 
each person to support his definition, as in the 
example given us by Cicero, of one, who carried 
his cause by bribery, and was afterwards prose- 



348 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

cutcd again upon an action of prevarication. 
Now if the defendant was cast upon this action, 
he was by the Roman law subjected to the pe- 
nalty of the former prosecution. Here the pro- 
secutor defines prevarication to be, any bribery 
or corruption in the defendant, with a design to 
pervert justice. The defendant therefore, on the 
other hand, restrains it to bribing only the prose- 
cutor. 

And if this latter sense agree better with the 
common acceptation of the word, the prosecu- 
tor in the third place pleads the intention of the 
law, which was to comprehend all bribery in 
judicial matters under the term of prevarication. 
In answer to which the defendant endeavours to 
show, either from the head of contraries, that a 
real prosecutor and a prevaricator are used as 
opposite terms in the law, or from the etymolo- 
gy of the word, that a prevaricator denotes one 
who pretends to appear in the prosecution of a 
cause, while in reality he favours the contrary 
side : and consequently that money given for this 
end only, can, in the sense of the law, be called 
prevarication. 

Lastly, the prosecutor pleads, it is unreason- 
able that he, who does not deny the fact, should 
escape by a cavil about a word. But the de- 
fendant insists upon his explication, as agree- 
able to the law, and says the fact is misrepre- 
sented and blackened by affixing to it a wrong 
name. 

The third state is that of quality, in which the 
dispute turns upon the justice of an action. And 
here the defendant does not deny he did the 
thing he is charged with, but asserts it to be 
right and equitable, from the circumstances of 
the case, and the motives which induced him 
to it. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 349 

And first, he sometimes alleges the reason of 
doing it was in order to prevent some other thing 
of worse consequence, which would otherwise 
have happened. We have an instance of this in 
the life of Epaminondas, who, with two other 
generals joined in the command with him, 
marched the Theban army into Peloponnesus 
against the Lacedaemonians ; but by the influ- 
ence of a contrary faction at home their com- 
missions were superseded, and other generals 
sent to command the army. But Epaminondas 
being sensible, that if he obeyed this order at 
that time it would be attended with the loss of 
the whole army, and consequently the ruin of 
the state, refused to do it ; and having persuaded 
the other generals to do the like, they happily 
finished the war in which they were engaged ; 
and upon their return home, Epaminondas 
taking the whole matter upon himself, on his 
trial was acquitted. The arguments proper in 
this case arc taken from the justice, usefulness, 
or necessity of the action. The accuser there- 
fore will plead, that the fact was not just, pro- 
fitable, nor necessary, considered either in itself, 
or comparatively with that for the sake of which 
it is said to have been done. And he will en- 
deavour to show, that what the defendant as- 
signs for the reason of what he did, might not 
have happened as he pretends. Besides, he will 
represent of what ill consequence it must be, if 
such crimes go unpunished. The defendant, on 
the other hand, will argue from the same heads, 
and endeavour to prove the fact was just, useful, 
or necessary. And he will further urge, that no 
just estimate can be made of any action but 
from the circumstances which attend it ; as the 
design, occasion, and motives for doing it ; 
which he will represent in the most favourable 



350 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

light to his own cause, and endeavour to set them 
in such a view as to induce others to think they 
could not but have done the same in the like 
circumstances. 

Again ; the cause of an action is sometimes 
charged by the defendant upon the party who 
received the damage, or some other person who 
either made it necessary, or enjoined him to do 
it. The first of these was Milo's plea for killing 
Clodius, because he assaulted him with a de- 
sign to take away his life. Here the fact is not 
denied, as in the case of Roscius above mention- 
ed, under the conjectural state, but justified from 
the reason of doing it. For that an assassinator 
might justly be killed, Cicero shows both from 
law and reason. The accuser therefore in such 
a case will, if there be room for it, deny the 
truth of this allegation. So the friends of Clodius 
affirmed that Milo was the aggressor, and not 
Clodius 3 which Cicero, in his defence of Milo, 
principally labours to refute. In the second case 
the prosecutor will say, no one ought to offend 
because another has offended first ; which de- 
feats the course of public justice, renders the 
laws useless, and destroys the authority of the 
magistrate. The defendant, on the other hand, 
will endeavour to represent the danger and ne- 
cessity of the case, which required an immediate 
remedy, and in that manner ; and urges that it 
was vain and impracticable to wait for redress 
in the ordinary way, and therefore no ill conse- 
quence can arise to the public. Thus Cicero 
in defending Sextius, who was prosecuted for a 
riot, in bringing armed men into the forum, 
shows that his design was only to repel force with 
force; which was then necessary, there being no 
other means left for the people to assemble, who 
were excluded by a mob of the contrary party. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 351 

Of the third case we have also an example in 
Cicero, who tells us, that, in making a league 
between the Romans and Samnites, a certain young 
nobleman was ordered by the Roman general to 
hold the swine {designed for a sacrifice) ; but the 
senate afterwards disapproving the terms 9 and de- 
livering up their general to the Samnites, it zvas 
moved, whether this young man ought not likezvise 
to be given up. Those who were for it, might 
say, that to allege the command of another is 
not a sufficient plea for doing an ill action. And 
this is what the Roman law now expressly de- 
clares. But in answer to that it might be re- 
plied ; that it was his duty to obey the command 
of his general, who was answerable for his own 
orders, and not those who were obliged to exe- 
cute them ; and therefore to give up this young 
nobleman, would be to punish one person for the 
fault of another. 

Lastly, a fact is sometimes rather excused 
than defended, by pleading that it was not done 
designedly, or with any ill intent. This is called 
concession, and contains two parts, apology and 
intreaty. The former represents the matter as 
the effect of inadvertency, chance, or necessity. 
Aristotle gives us an example of inadvertency or 
imprudence in a woman at Athens, who gave a 
young man a love potion, which killed him; 
for which she was tried, but acquitted. Though 
afterwards this was made criminal by the Ro- 
man law. The case of Adrastus, as related by 
Herodotus, is an instance of chance ; who being 
intrusted by Croesus with the care of his son, as 
they were hunting, killed him accidentally with 
a javelin which he threw at a boar. It is neces- 
sitv, when a person excuses his making a de- 
fault from stress of weather, sickness, or the like. 
Thus Cicero pleaded his illness, contracted by 



352 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the fatigue of a long journey, as an excuse for 
not appearing in the senate upon the summons 
of Mark Antony ; who threatened to oblige him 
to it by pulling his house down. But what the 
defendant here attributes to inadvertency, chance, 
or necessity, the opposite party will attribute to 
design, negligence, or some other culpable rea- 
son ; and represent it as a matter injurious to the 
public to introduce such precedents ; and also 
produce instances, if that can be done, where 
the like excuses have not been admitted. On the 
other hand, the defendant will insist on his in- 
nocence, and show the hardship and severity of 
judging men's actions rather by the event than 
from the intention : that such a procedure makes 
no difference between the innocent and the guil- 
ty, but must necessarily involve many honest 
men in ruin and destruction, discourage all vir- 
tuous and generous designs, and turn greatly to 
the prejudice of human society. He will also 
consider the instances alleged bv the accuser, 
and show the difference between them and his 
own case. And, lastly, he will have recourse 
to intreaty, or a submissive address to the equity 
and clemency of the court or party offended, for 
pardon ; as Cicero has done in his oration to 
Caesar, in favour of Ligarius. 

These instances are sufficient to show the na- 
ture of the arguments suited to judicial dis- 
courses, which are deduced from a variety of 
the general topics. 



Of the Character and Address of an Orator. 

Having in several discourses considered and 
explained the first part of invention, which fur- 
nishes the orator with such arguments as are 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 353 

necessary for the proof of his subject, I am next 
to show what are the proper means to conciliate 
the minds of his hearers, to gain their affection, 
and to recommend both himself and what he 
says to their good opinion and esteem. For the 
parts of invention are commonly thus distin- 
guished ; that the first respects the subject of 
the discourse, the second the speaker, and the 
third the hearers. Now the second of these, 
which is what I am at present to explain, is by 
Quintilian called a propriety of manners. And 
in order to express tbis, it is necessary, as he tells 
us, that every thing appear easy and natural, and 
the disposition of the speaker be discovered by his 
words. We may form an easy conception of this 
from the conduct of such persons who are most 
nearly concerned in each other's welfare. As 
when relations or friends converse together upon 
any affairs of importance, the temper and dispo- 
sition of the speaker plainly shows itself by his 
words and manner of address. And what na- 
ture here directs to without colouring or dis- 
guise, the orator is to endeavour to perform by 
his art. Though, indeed, if what a person says 
be inconsistent with his usual conduct and be- 
haviour at other times, he cannot expect it 
should gain much credit, or make any deep im- 
pression upon his hearers : which may be one 
reason why the ancient rhetoricians make it so 
necessary a qualification in an orator, that he be 
a good man ; since he should always be con- 
sistent with himself, and, as we say, talk in 
character. And therefore it is highly requisite, 
that he should not only gain the skill of as- 
suming those qualities, which the nature and cir- 
cumstances of his discourse require him to ex- 
press, but, likewise, that he should use his ut- 
most endeavours to get the real habits implanted 

2 A 



354 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

in his mind : for as by this means they will be 
always expressed with greater ease and facility, 
so, by appearing constantly in the course of his 
life, they will have more weight and influence 
upon particular occasions. 

Now there are four qualities more especially 
suited to the character of an orator, which 
should always appear in his discourses, in order 
to render what he says acceptable to his hearers ; 
and these are, wisdom, integrity, benevolence, and 
modesty. 

Wisdom is necessary, because we easily give 
into the opinion of those whom we esteem wiser 
and more knowing than ourselves. Knowledge 
is very agreeable and pleasant to all, but few 
make very great improvements in it. Such, 
therefore, who either cannot or do not care to 
give themselves the trouble of examining into 
things themselves, must take up with the repre- 
sentation of others ; and it is an ease to them to 
hear the opinion of persons whom they esteem 
wiser than themselves. No one loves to be de- 
ceived ; and such who are fearful of being mis- 
led, are pleased to meet with a person in whose 
wisdom, as they think, they can safely trust. 
The character of wisdom, therefore, is of great 
service to an orator, since the greater part of 
mankind are swayed by authority rather than 
arguments. 

But this of itself is not sufficient, unless the 
opinion o£ integrity be joined with it. Nay, so 
far from it, that the greater knowledge and un- 
derstanding a man is supposed to have, unless he 
likewise have the character of an honest man, 
he is often the more suspected. For knowledge 
without honesty is generally thought to dispose 
a person, as well as qualify him, to deceive. 
Quintilian^ in treating upon narration, has a very 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 355 

remarkable passage to this purpose,, which I 
shall here transcribe. I must not omit, says he, 
how much the authority of the speaker gives credit 
to what he relates, which is to be gained princi- 
pally by his life, and partly from his manner of 
speaking. And what Quintilian observes here 
with respect to narration, the best writers all 
recommend as necessary through the whole con- 
duct of an orator. 

And to both these qualities the appearance of 
kindness and benevolence should likewise be 
added. For though a person have the reputa- 
tion of wisdom and honesty, yet if we apprehend 
he is either not well affected to us, or at least 
regardless of our interest, we are in many cases 
apt to be jealous of him. Mankind are natu- 
rally swayed by their affections, and much in- 
fluenced through love or friendship, and there- 
fore nothing has a greater tendency to induce 
persons to credit what is said than intimations of 
affection and kindness. The best orators have 
been always sensible what great influence the 
expressions of kindness and benevolence have 
upon the minds of others, to induce them to 
believe the truth of what they say ; and there- 
fore they frequently endeavour to impress them 
with the opinion of it. Thus Demosthenes be- 
gins his celebrated oration for Ctesiphon : It is 
my hearty prayer, says he, to all the deities, that 
this my defence may be received by you with the 
same affection which I have always expressed for 
you and your city. And it is a very fine image of 
it, which we have in Cicero, where, in order to 
influence the judges in favour of Milo, he intro- 
duces him speaking thus, as became a brave 
man, and a patriot, even upon the supposition he 
should be condemned by them : / bid my felloxv- 
citizens adieu ; may they continue flourishing and 
2 a 2 



356 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

prosperous I may this famous city be preserved, 
my most dear country, however it has treated me 1 
may my fellow citizens enjoy peace and tranquil- 
lity without me, since I am not to enjoy it with 
them, though I have procured it for them ! I 
will withdraw, I will be gone. 

The fourth and last quality above-mentioned, 
as necessary to the character of an orator, is mo- 
desty. And it is certain, that what is modestly 
spoken, is generally better received than what 
carries in it an air of boldness and confidence. 
Most persons, though ignorant of a thing, do 
not care to be thought so, and would have some 
deference paid to their understanding. But he 
who delivers himself in an arrogant and assum- 
ing way, seems to upbraid his hearers with ig- 
norance, while he does not leave them to judge 
for themselves, but dictates to them, and, as it 
were, demands their assent to what he says ; 
which is certainly a very improper method to win 
upon them. For not a few, when convinced of 
an error in such a way, will not own it, but will 
rather adhere to their former opinion than seem 
forced to think right, when it gives another the 
opportunity of a triumph. A prudent orator, 
therefore, will behave himself with modesty, that 
he may not seem to insult his hearers ; and will 
set things before them in such an engaging man- 
ner as may remove all prejudice, either from his 
person, or what he asserts. But, at the same 
time, firmness and resolution are as necessary as 
modesty, that he may appear to confide in the 
justice and truth of his cause. For to speak 
timorously, and with hesitation, destroys the 
credit of what is offered ; and so far as the speaker 
seems to distrust what he says himself, he often 
induces others to do the like. 

But, as has been said already, great care is to 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 357 

be taken that these characters do not appear 
feigned and counterfeit. For what is fictitious 
can seldom be long concealed. And if this be 
once discovered, it makes all that is said sus- 
pected, however specious it may otherwise ap- 
pear. If men always loved truth for its own 
excellency, it would be sufficient to propose it 
clearly and plainly ; nor would the assistance of 
art be necessary, in order to induce them to 
embrace it. But it frequently happens, that 
truth clashes with what men account their in- 
terest, and for that reason they will not regard 
it. An ungrateful truth will either not be 
heard, or soon discarded. And many times where 
persons cannot contradict what is offered, yet, if 
that contradict their settled opinions, they will 
still suppose it may not be true. Nor is it a dif- 
ficult thing for persons to bring themselves to 
such a belief, while they forbear calmly and se- 
riously to consider the arguments offered on the 
other side. And since matters are thus, it is 
often necessary for the orator to have recourse 
to art, in order to obtain that which otherwise 
he cannot come at. For this purpose, therefore, 
it is very serviceable to accommodate his dis- 
course to the temper and inclination of his audi- 
ence. Nor indeed can any one reasonably hope 
to succeed in this province without well consi- 
dering the circumstances of time and place, with 
the sentiments and dispositions of those to whom 
he speaks ; which, according to Aristotle, may 
be distinguished four ways, as they discover 
themselves by the several affections, habits, ages, 
and fortunes of mankind. And each of these re- 
quires a different conduct and manner of address. 

The affections denote certain emotions of the 
mind, which, during their continuance, give a 



358 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

great turn to the disposition. For love prompts 
to one thing, and hatred to another. The like 
may be said of anger, lenity, and the rest of 
them ; as I shall show, when I come to treat of 
them particularly. 

Persons differ likewise according to the various 
habits of their mind. So a just man is inclined 
one way, and an unjust man another ; a tempe- 
rate man to this, and an intemperate man to the 
contrary. 

And as to the several ages of men, Aristotle 
has described them very accurately, and how 
persons are differently affected in each of them. 
I shall content myself with the substance of 
what he says, to prevent being tedious. He di- 
vides the lives of men, considered as hearers, 
into three stages ; — youth, middle age, and old 
age. Young men, he says, have generally strong 
passions, and are very eager to obtain what 
they desire ; but are likewise very mutable, so 
that the same thing does not please them long. 
They are ambitious of praise, and quick in their 
resentments : lavish of their money, as not hav- 
ing experienced the want of it : frank and 
open, because they have not often been de- 
ceived ; and credulous for the same reason. 
They readily hope the best, because they have 
not suffered much, and are therefore not so sen- 
sible of the uncertainty of human affairs ; for 
which reason they are likewise more easily de- 
ceived. They are modest from their little ac- 
quaintance with the world. They love company 
and cheerfulness, from the briskness of their 
spirits; and think well of their friends. They 
imagine they know more than they do, and for 
that reason are apt to be too positive. In a 
word, they generally exceed in what they do, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 359 

love violently, hate violently, and act in the same 
manner through the rest of their conduct. 

The disposition of old men is generally con- 
trary to the former. They are cautious, and 
enter upon nothing hastily ; having in the course 
of many years been often imposed upon, having 
often erred, and experienced the prevailing cor- 
ruption of human affairs; for which reason they 
are likewise suspicious, and moderate in their 
affections, either of love or hatred. They pursue 
nothing great and noble, and regard only the 
necessaries of life. They love money, having 
learnt by experience the difficulty of getting it, 
and how easily it is lost. They are fearful^ which 
makes them provident. — Commonly full of com- 
plaints from bodily infirmities, and a deficiency 
of spirits — Please themselves rather with the me- 
mory of what is past than any future prospect, 
having so short a view of life before them, in 
comparison of what is already gone ; for which 
reason also they love to talk of things past, and 
prefer them to what is present, of which they 
have but little relish, and know they must 
shortly leave them. They are soon angry, but 
not to excess. Lastly, they are compassionate, 
from a sense of their own infirmities, which makes 
them think themselves of all persons most ex- 
posed. 

Persons of a middle age, betwixt these two ex- 
tremes, as they are freed from the rashness and 
temerity of youth, so they have not yet suffered 
the decays of old age. Hence in every thing 
they generally observe a better conduct. They 
are neither so hasty in their assent as the one, 
nor so minutely scrupulous as the other, but 
weigh the reasons of things. They regard a de- 
cency in their actions, are careful and industri- 
ous ; and, as they undertake what appears just 



360 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and laudable upon better and more deliberate 
consideration than young persons, so they pursue 
it with more vigour and resolution than those 
who are older. 

As to the different fortunes of mankind, they 
may be considered as noble, rich, or powerful ; 
and the contrary to these. Those of high birth, 
and noble extraction, are generally very tender 
of their honour, and ambitious to increase it ; it 
being natural for all persons to desire an addition 
to those advantages, of which they find them- 
selves already possessed. And they are apt to 
consider all others as much their inferiors, and 
therefore expect great regard and deference should 
be shown them. Riches, when accompanied 
with a generous temper, command respect from 
the opportunities they give of being useful to 
others ; but they usually elate the mind, and oc- 
casion pride. For as money is commonly said to 
command all things, those who are possessed of a 
large share of it, expect others should be at their 
beck ; since they enjoy that which all desire, and 
most persons make the main pursuit of their lives 
to obtain. But nothing is more apt to swell the 
mind than power. This is what all men naturally 
covet, even when perhaps they would not use it. 
But the views of such persons are generally more 
noble and generous than of those who only pur- 
sue riches, and the heaping up of money. A 
state contrary to these gives a contrary turn of 
mind; and, in lower life, persons' dispositions 
usually differ according to their stations and cir- 
cumstances. A citizen and a courtier, a mer- 
chant and a soldier, a scholar and a peasant, as 
t heir pursuits are different, so is generally their 
turn and disposition of mind. 

It is the orator's business, therefore, to consi- 
der these several characters and circumstances 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 36 1 

of life, with the different bias and way of think- 
ing they give to the mind, that he may so con- 
duct himself in his behaviour and manner of 
speaking, as will render him most acceptable, and 
gain him the good esteem of those whom he 
addresses. 

Of the Passions. 

The third and last part of rhetorical invention 
relates to the passio?is, of which I am now to 
discourse. And as it is often highly necessary 
for the orator, so it requires his greatest skill to 
engage these in his interest. Quintilian calls 
this, The soul and spirit of his art. And, doubt- 
less, nothing more discovers its empire over the 
minds of men than this power to excite, ap- 
pease, and sway their passions, agreeably to the 
design of the speaker. Hence we meet with 
the characters of admirable, divine, and other 
splendid titles, ascribed to eloquence by ancient 
writers. There is nothing great or noble to be 
performed in life, wherein the passions are not 
concerned. The stoics, therefore, who were for 
eradicating the passions, both maintained a thing 
in itself impossible ; and which, if it was possible, 
would be of the greatest prejudice to mankind. 
For while they appeared such zealous asserters 
of the government of reason, they scarce left it 
any thing to govern ; for the authority of reason 
is principally exercised in ruling and moderating 
the passions, which, when kept in a due regu- 
lation, are the springs and motives to virtue. 
Thus hope produces patience, and fear industry, 
and the like might be shown of the rest. The 
passions, therefore, are not to be extirpated, as 
the stoics asserted, but put under the direction 



362 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and conduct of reason. Indeed, where they are 
ungovernable, and, instead of obeying, command, 
they are, as some have fitly called them, diseases 
of the mind, and frequently hurry men into vice, 
and the greatest misfortunes of life. Just as the 
wind, when it blows moderately, carries on the 
ship ; but if it be too boisterous and violent, may 
overset her. The charge, therefore, brought 
against this art, for giving rules to influence the 
passions, appears groundless and unjust; since 
the proper use of the passions is not to hinder 
the exercise of reason, but to engage men to act 
agreeably to reason : and if an ill use be some- 
times made of this, it is not the fault of the art 
but of the artist. So moralists explain the nature 
both of virtues and vices, that men may know 
better how to practise one, and avoid the other ; 
but if their precepts happen to have a different 
effect, they are not answerable for that. 

But that an orator may be enabled to manage 
this part of his province to the best advantage, 
it is necessary he should, in some measure, be 
acquainted with the nature, causes, and objects 
of the passions. Now the passions, as denned 
by Aristotle, are, Commotions of the mind, under 
the influence of which men think differently con- 
cerning the same things. Thus a thing appears 
good to him who desires it; though it may not 
appear so to another, or to the same person at a 
different time. Writers are not agreed as to the 
number of the passions. But 1 shall wave this 
dispute, as the more proper business of philo- 
sophy, and only consider them as they come un- 
der the cognizance of the orator. And that I 
may proceed in some order, I shall treat of them 
as they may be separately referred, either to de- 
monstrative, deliberative, or judicial discourses ; 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 363 

though they are not wholly confined to any of 
them. 

To the demonstrative kind we may refer joy 
and sorrow, love and hatred, emulation and con- 
tempt. 

Joy is an elation of the mind, arising from 
a sense of some present good. Such a reflexion 
naturally creates a pleasant and agreeable sen- 
sation, which ends in a delightful calm and se- 
renity. This is heightened by a description of 
former evils, and a comparison between them 
and the present felicity. Thus Cicero endea- 
vours to excite in the minds of his fellow citi- 
zens the highest sense of joy and delight at 
Catiline's departure from Rome, by representing 
to them the imminent danger which threatened 
both them and the city, while he continued 
among them. 

Sorrow, on the contrary, is an uneasiness of 
mind, arising from a sense of some present evil. 
This passion has generally a place in funereal 
discourses, and it may be heightened like the 
former by comparison, when any past happiness 
is set in opposition to a present calamity. Hence 
Cicero aggravates the sorrow at Rome, occa- 
sioned by the death of Metellus, from his cha- 
racter, and great services to the public while 
living. 

Love excites us to esteem another for some 
excellency, and to do him all the good in our 
power. It is distinguished from friendship, which 
is mutual; and therefore love may continue 
where friendship is lost : that is, the affection 
may remain on one side. And when we assist 
a person from no other motive, but to do him a 
kindness, Aristotle calls this good will. Love 
takes its rise from a variety of causes. Genero- 
sity, benevolence, integrity, gratitude, courtesy, 



364 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and other social virtues, are great incitements 
to love any one endued with such qualities. And 
persons generally love those who are of a like dis- 
position with themselves, and pursue the same 
views. It is therefore the chief art of a flatterer, 
to suit himself in every thing to the inclination 
of the person whose good graces he courts. When 
the orator would excite this affection towards any 
person, it is proper to show that he is possessed 
of some at least, if not all these agreeable qualities. 
When the conspirators with Catiline were to be 
brought to justice, Cicero was very sensible of the 
envy he should contract on that account, and 
how necessary it was for him to secure the love 
of the Roman senate for his support and pro- 
tection in that critical juncture. And this he 
endeavours to do in his fourth oration against 
Catiline, by representing to them, in the most 
pathetic manner, that all the labours he under- 
went, the difficulties he conflicted with, and the 
dangers to which he was exposed on that account, 
were not for his own sake, but for their safety, 
quiet, and happiness. 

Hatred is opposed to love, and produced by 
the contrary dispositions. And therefore persons 
hate those who never did them any injury, from 
the ill opinion they have of their base and vicious 
inclinations. So that the way to excite this pas- 
sion is, by showing that any one has committed 
some heinous fact with an ill intent. And the 
more nearly affected persons are by such actions, 
in what they account of the greatest concern, the 
higher in proportion their hatred rises. Since 
life therefore is esteemed the most valuable good, 
Cicero endeavours to render Mark Antony odi- 
ous to the citizens of Rome, by describing his 
cruelty. 

Emulation is a disquiet, occasioned by the fe- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 365 

licity of another, not because he enjoys it, but 
because we desire the like for ourselves. So that 
this passion is in itself good and laudable, as it en- 
gages men to pursue those things which are so. 
For the proper objects of emulation are any ad- 
vantages of mind, body, or fortune, acquired by 
study or labour. And persons are generally ex- 
cited to an emulation of those with whom they 
converse. So children are often ambitious of the 
like virtues or honours which they see in their re- 
lations or friends, And therefore it was a very 
proper question of Andromache to iEneas, con- 
cerning Ascanius, which we have in Virgil : 

" What hopes are promised from his blooming years! 
How much of Hector's soul in him appears! " 

Emulation therefore is excited by a lively repre- 
sentation of any desirable advantages, which ap- 
pear to be attainable from the example of others 
who are, or have been, possessed of them. But 
where the felicity of another occasions an uneasi- 
ness, not from the want of it, but because he 
enjoys it, this passion is called envy ; which the 
ancients describe as a hideous monster, feeding 
upon itself, and being its own tormentor. Aris- 
totle observes, that it most usually affects such 
persons who were once upon a level with those 
they envy. For most men naturally think so 
well of themselves, that they are uneasy to see 
those who were formerly their equals advanced 
above them. But as this is a base and vicious 
passion, the orator is not to be informed how to 
excite it, but how to lesson or remove it. And 
the method prescribed by Cicero for this pur- 
pose is, to show that the things which occasioned 
it have not happened to the envied person un- 
deservedly, but are the just reward of his indus- 
try or virtue ; that he does not so much convert 
them to his own profit or pleasure, as to the be- 



366 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

nefit of others; and that the same pains and dif- 
ficulties are necessary to preserve them with which 
they were at first acquired. 

Contempt is opposed to Emulation, and arises 
from misconduct in things not of themselves vi- 
cious : as where a person either acts below his 
station and character; or affects to do that for 
which he is not qualified. Thus Cicero endea- 
vours to expose Caecilius, and bring him into the 
contempt of the court, for pretending to rival 
him in the accusation of Verres, for which he was 
altogether unfit. 

To deliberative discourses may be referred /ear, 
hope, and shame. 

Fear arises from the apprehension of some great 
and impending evil. For the greatest evils, while 
they appear at a distance, do not much affect us. 
Such persons occasion fear, who are possessed of 
power, especially if they have been injured, or 
apprehend so. Likewise those who are addicted 
to do injuries, or who bear us an ill will. And 
the examples of others, who have suffered in a 
like case, or from the same persons, help to ex- 
cite fear. From the circumstances therefore 
either of the thing, or person, it will not be diffi- 
cult for the orator to offer such arguments as may 
be proper to awaken this passion. So Demos- 
thenes, when he would persuade the Athenians 
to put themselves in a condition of defence against 
king Philip, enumerates tbe several acts of hos- 
tility already committed by him against the neigh- 
bouring states. And because men's private con- 
cerns generally more affect them than what re- 
lates to the public, it is proper sometimes to 
show the necessary connexion these have with 
each other, and how the ruin of one draws the 
other after it. 

The contrary passion to fear is hope, which 
arises, either from a prospect of some future 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 367 

good, or the apprehension of safety from those 
things which occasion our fear. Young per- 
sons are easily induced to hope the best, from the 
vigour of their spirits. And those who have 
escaped former dangers are encouraged to hope 
for the like happy success for the future. The 
examples of others also, especially of wise and 
considerate men, have often the same good ef- 
fect. To find them calm and sedate, when ex- 
posed to the like dangers, naturally creates con- 
fidence, and the hopes of safety. But nothing 
gives persons such firmness and steadiness of 
mind, under the apprehension of any difficulties, 
as a consciousness of their own integrity and in- 
nocence. Let dangers come from what quar- 
ter they will, they are best prepared to receive 
them. They can calmly view an impending tem- 
pest, observe the way of its approach, and pre- 
pare themselves in the best manner to avoid it. 
In Cicero's oration for the Manilian law, he en- 
courages the Roman citizens to hope for suc- 
cess against Mithridates, if they choose Pompey 
for their general, from the many instances of his 
former successes, which he there enumerates. 
We find in history, that artful men have fre- 
quently made use of omens and prodigies with 
the populace, either to awaken or expel their 
fears, and that with the greatest success. But 
such arguments are not much regarded by wise 
and prudent men. In the time of the civil wars 
between Caesar and Pompey, when the affairs of 
Pompey's party were very much broken and 
shattered, one who was in that interest endea- 
voured to animate the rest and excite them to 
push on the war with vigour, from a lucky omen 
(as it was then thought) of seven eagles, which 
were observed to settle in their camp. But Ci- 
cero, who was then present, and knew very well the 



368 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

vanity of such reasoning;, immediately replied: 
That such a happy incident might indeed prove of 
service to them if they were to fight with jackdaws. 
Shame arises from the apprehension of those 
things that hurt a person's character. Modesty 
has been wisely implanted in mankind by the 
great author of nature, as a guardian of virtue, 
which ought for this reason to be cherished with 
the greatest care; because, as Seneca has well 
observed, if it be once lost, it is scarce ever to be 
recovered. Therefore the true cause or founda- 
tion of shame is any thing base or vicious ; for 
this wounds the character, and will not bear re- 
flexion. And he must arrive at no small degree 
of insensibility, who can stand against such a 
charge, if he be conscious to himself that it is 
just. Therefore to deter persons from vicious 
actions, or to expose them for the commission 
of them, the orator endeavours to set them in 
such a light as may most awaken this passion, 
and give them the greatest uneasiness by the re- 
flection. And because the bare representation 
of the thing itself is not always sufficient for this 
purpose, he sometimes enforces it by enlarging 
the view, and introducing those persons as wit- 
nesses of the fact, for whom they are supposed 
to have the greatest regard. Thus when some 
of the Athenians, in an arbitration about certain 
lands which had been referred to them by the 
contending parties, proposed it as the shortest 
way of deciding the controversy, to take the pos- 
session of them into their own hands, Cydias, a 
member of the assembly, to dissuade them from 
such an unjust action, desired them to imagine 
themselves at that time in the general assem- 
bly of the states of Greece (who would all hear 
of it shortly) and then consider how it was pro- 
per to act. But where persons labour under an 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 369 

excess of modesty, which prevents them from ex- 
erting themselves in things fit and laudable, it 
may sometimes be necessary to show that it is 
faulty and ill grounded. On the other hand, im- 
modesty or impudence, which consists in a con- 
tempt of such things as affect the reputation, can 
never be too much discouraged and exposed. 
And the way of doing this is to make use of such 
arguments as are most proper to excite shame. 
We have a very remarkable instance of it in Ci- 
cero's second Philippic, wherein he affixes this 
character upon Mark Antony, through every 
scene of his life. 

I come now to those passions which may be re- 
ferred to judicial discourses ; — and these are an- 
ger and lenity, pity and indignation. 

Anger is a resentment, occasioned by some 
affront or injury done without any just reason. 
Now men are more inclined to resent such a 
conduct, as they think they less deserve it. 
Therefore persons of distinction and figure, who 
expect a regard should be paid to their charac- 
ter, can the less bear any indications of contempt. 
And those who are eminent in any profession or 
faculty are apt to be offended, if reflections are 
cast either upon their reputation or art. Ma- 
gistrates also, and persons in public stations, 
sometimes think it incumbent on them to resent 
indignities, for the support of their office. But 
nothing sooner inflames this passion, than if 
good services are rewarded with slights and 
neglect. The instance of Narses, the Roman 
general, is remarkable in this kind ; who, after 
he had been very successful in his wars with the 
Goths, falling under the displeasure of the em- 
peror Justin, was removed from the government 
of Italy, and received by the empress with this 
taunt: That he must be sent to weave among the 

2 B 



370 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Girls : which so provoked him, that he said he 
would weave such a web as they should never 
be able to unravel. And accordingly he soon 
after brought down the Longobards, a people of 
Germany, into Italy, where they settled them- 
selves in that part of the country which, from 
them, is now called Lombardy. The time and 
place in which an injury was done, and other 
circumstances that attended it, may likewise 
contribute very much to heighten the fact. Hence 
Demosthenes, in his oration against Midias, 
endeavours to aggravate the injury of being 
struck by him, both as he was then a magis- 
trate, and because it was done at a public fes 
tival. From hence it appears, that the persons 
who most usually occasion this passion are such 
who neglect the rules of decency, contemn and 
insult others, or oppose their inclinations ; as 
likewise the ungrateful, and those who violate 
the ties of friendship, or requite favours with in- 
juries. But when the orator endeavours to ex- 
cite anger, he should be careful not to exceed 
due bounds in aggravating the charge, lest what 
he says appear rather to proceed from preju- 
dice, than a strict regard to the demerit of the 
action. 

Lenity is the remission of anger. The designs 
of men's actions are principally to be regarded; 
and therefore what is said ignorantly, or through 
inadvertency is sooner forgiven. Also to ac- 
knowledge a fault, submit, and ask pardon, are 
the ready means to take off resentment ; for a 
generous mind is soon cooled by submission. 
Besides he who repents of his fault does really 
give the injured party some satisfaction, by pu- 
nishing himself, as all repentance is attended 
with grief and uneasiness of mind -, and this is 
apt very much to abate the desire of revenge : 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 371 

as, on the contrary, nothing is more provoking 
than when the offender either audaciously justi- 
fies the fact, or confidently denies it. Men are 
likewise wont to lay aside their resentment, when 
their adversaries happen by some other means to 
suffer, what they think a sufficient satisfaction. 
Lastly, easy circumstances, a lucky incident, or 
any thing which gives the mind a turn to mirth 
and pleasure, has a natural tendency to remove an- 
ger : for anger is accompanied with pain and un- 
easiness, which very ill suit joy and cheerfulness. 
The orator therefore, in order to assuage and pa- 
cify the minds of his auditors, will endeavour to 
lessen their opinion of the fault, and by that 
means to take off the edge of their resentment. 
And to this purpose, it will be proper either to 
represent, that the thing was not designed, or 
that the party is sorry for it ; or to mention his 
former services ; as also to show the credit and 
reputation which will be gained by a generous 
forgiveness. And this last topic is very artfully 
wrought up by Cicero, in his address to Caesar, 
in favour of Ligarius. 

Pity arises from the calamities of others, by 
reflecting that we ourselves are liable to the like 
misfortunes. So that evils, considered as the 
common lot of human nature, are principally the 
cause of pity. And this makes the difference be- 
tween pity and good-zvill, which, as I have shown 
already, arises merely from a regard to the cir- 
cumstances of those who want our assistance. 
But considering the uncertainty of every thing 
about us, he must seem in a manner divested of 
humanity, who has no compassion for the cala- 
mities of others ; since there is no affliction, 
which happens to any man, but either that, or 
some other as great, may fall upon himself. But 
those persons are generally soonest touched with. 



372 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

this passion who have met with misfortunes them- 
selves. And by how much greater the distress 
is, or the person appears less deserving it, the 
higher pity does it excite; for which reason 
persons are generally most moved at the misfor- 
tunes of their relations and friends, or those of 
the best figure and character. The orator there- 
fore, in order to excite the greater pity, will 
endeavour to heighten the idea of the calamity, 
from the several circumstances both of the thing 
itself, and the person who labours under it. A 
fine example of this may be seen in Cicero's de- 
fence of Muraena. 

Indignation, as opposed to pity, is an uneasi- 
ness at the felicity of another, who does not seem 
to deserve it. But this respects only external 
advantages, such as riches, honours, and the 
like ; for virtues cannot be the object of this 
passion. Aristotle therefore says, that pity and 
indignation are generally to be found in the same 
persons, and are both evidences of a good dispo- 
sition. Now the orator excites this passion, by 
showing the person to be unworthy of that feli- 
city which he enjoys. And as, in order to move 
compassion, it is sometimes of use to compare 
the former happy state of the person with his 
present calamity, so here the greater indignation 
is raised, by comparing his former mean circum- 
stances with his present advancement : as Cicero 
does in the case of Vatinius. 

These are the passions with which an orator 
is principally concerned. In addressing to which, 
not only the greatest warmth and force of expres- 
sion is often necessary, but he must likewise first 
endeavour to impress his own mind with the same 
passion he would excite in others, agreeably to 
that of Horace : 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 373 



My grief with others' just proportion bears ; 
To make me weep, you must be first in tears. 



Thus far the learned Professor Ward on that 
part of Oratory called Invention ; in which we 
perceive he has followed the ancients,, step by 
step, but not without several judicious observa- 
tions of his own. On all subjects that do not 
admit of experiment or demonstration, I own I 
am a great friend to authority : and when the 
ancients unanimously, and almost all the mo- 
derns down to Priestley and Ward, recommend 
the topics or common places, I cannot think 
they can be unworthy of attention. Let those 
who do not feel themselves in want of such as- 
sistance enjoy their superiority, and leave the 
less-gifted part of their species to such resources 
as are suited to the mediocrity of their abilities. 
This part of Rhetoric, therefore, which ought to 
have been the first, is reserved to the last, that 
the student, if he pleases, may more easily omit 
the perusal of it. 



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